#doctor who is so full of unused potential

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

the thing with doctor who i think is that it gets better the more you know. maybe this is true of all writing but i only know doctor who so we'll focus on that. but i think it gets better the more you know this is why my fic is not very good. i dont know many things. i think if you have a background in like, just any field you can use you can make your doctor who stories more interesting. like linguistics maths physics and music are things that come to mind for me that i would like to know to make my doctor who stories more interesting but i think it can work with, like, almost anything. biology stuff also works well adds a lot. sociology stuff history. if you know how to sew really well or youve worked in meat factories. just, if you have deep knowledge about something this will enrich your doctor who stories (again, might be true for literally every writing)

but also things you can know that are just lived and not books. like i said with that post about different countries' doctor whos, every country would bring its own history and values and perspective to the stories. but also like for example the class stuff or the queer stuff you see with rtds stories like anything a writer Knows will make their stories more interesting

and thats why doctor who could literally be so good If They Diversified Their Fucking Staff. in every sense of the word. you need disabled people, trans people, racialised people, people with different religions but you need people who know other things than writing too! which i get is difficult because theyre mostly working in their fields and not writing but like there are writers who are not or have not only ever just been writers. or just get writers with some weird fucking hobbies!

even in the most basic way even if you keep your entire show white christian able-bodied man, if you have more of those you will have better stories. it will still suck! but like, less than if you only have 1 guy writing right? thats not a novel concept artists know this writers know this thats why they work together. and i get that making tv is very complex and theres a lot of interests and a lot of choices being made that arent even to do with the stories but i find it so frustrating to think about how good doctor who could be if they let other people in to put their knowledge and their perspective in the stories

[zuzajs14]

Thanks for tagging me @birdstiel 💕

I guess we are doing it. Let's expose ourselves.

8 series to get to know me:

- Supernatural - obviously. my current hyperfixation as you can all tell. I am rather obsessive consumer of media but there are not that many shows close to my heart. and while I despise it deeply (I am a writer and bad storytelling kills me), I am also unable to not love it. this show had many great ideas and even bigger potential, many amazing characters who's story I woul love to explore. the unused or misused or badly used possibilities... damn it.

- Once Upon a Time - listen, i know it's low budget with shitty special effects (the poorly done fire every fucking time). but this is my comfort show. the idea is great, there are a lot of strong women (and one pirate who I am madly in love with). it's not very bright but I never needed it to be. it's just... fairytales, you know. comfort. and my beloved trait of gray morality - evil is made, not born ect, ect

- Doctor Who - this shit saved me. i am not sci fi person much (with exceptions, sure). but this silly man(I use it as a gender neutral term, like - damn, man) in a box, that fights the good fight... a pacifist that killed whole races (the bad ones, sure, but you know). and this otherworldly creature just struggles with so many emotions and is damned to feel forever lonely while having so many people live them... It's AAAAA. sure there are bad episodes. but who cares. i love it

- Our flag means death - you may not now this about me (but everyone in rl DOES as it's my personality) but I love pirates. like a lot. so obviously I care the silly gay pirates show. and I generally like Taika's projects. it's just adorable. makes me feel warm and fuzzy. and has a bit of angst. niceeee

- What we do in the shadows - again, silly and gay. i like gay media, what a suprise. and I love dumb characters. and they are all sooooo fucking stupid. love it. and ya know, vampires ( i have pirates and vampires, I need silly gay cowboys next)

- Game of Thrones - I am still so fucking mad. but I am also a sucker for dark fantasy. the costumes, the drama, the freaking politics and magic. also Jaime and Brienne. this dynamic is all to me. i've read the books to. and it's good storytelling. but unfinished... so sure the show fucked it up. tragic, really (still not emotionally ready to rewatch it dhdjdjd)

- Good Omens - Neil Gaiman is my favourite author. Really. Terry Pratchett is high on that list too. and as Neil supervised this adaptation... and it has David Tennant and Michael Sheen... couldn't go wrong. and is just hilarious and tender and full of love (and biblical motives which is something I value a lot - Gabriel shouting he's buying pornography lives rent free in my head)

- Broadchurch - you can't tell by this list but I like criminal shows too! (I was thinking os putting Sherlock on the list cause I care it a lot too and bonded with my mum over it buuuuut... somehow Broadchurch won, being fresher in my memory) again it has David Tennant, who's work I enjoy a great deal. and it's really good story that kept me on my toes. first season is my favourite

Huh. It was hard choosing only 8. Special mentions go to Sherlock, The Terror and One Piece (pirates!)

Okay, I will shut up now. This is way too long anyhow

No pressure tags (I still hate tagging people, I don't want to annoy anyone but I am curious about yours!)

@naughtystiel @fluffsnake @valeron99 @archervale @werepires (still intimated by you but if you want 👉👈)

And anyone who wants to! You can tag me and I will defo read it! I would gladly see all of my mutuals do it, but as I haven't talked to most of you, I am still shy about bothering you...

[astroaquarium]

signs on the house cusps: part 2

Libra-Pisces

Libra on the 1st: you come across as very agreeable, level-headed, fair, and charasmatic. you veiw the world in a very balanced way, and like to take in every account and point of view and keep all parties happy.

Libra on the 2nd: you value the finer things in life, however you tend to have a great knack for balancing spending and saving, and dont go overboard.

libra on the 3rd: your relationship with siblings is likely very amicable, peaceful, you rarely fight or have disagreements. your primary schooling was a good experience for you.

libra on the 4th: you had a very venusian upbringing and/or homelife. you liked to keep the peace between family members.

libra on the 5th: you might like to engage in debate and/or humanitarian or charity based projects/initiatives in your spare time, or as a sode hustle. in your dating life, you are super flirty, and fun and dont take it too seriously.

libra on the 6th: you have generally very good health, however may have some lowerback issues here and there or possible kidney issues. your daily routine is very balanced, you like getting shit done.

libra on the 7th: you attract partners who are very charasmatic, people pleasers, who will always go with what you want and cant make a decision to save themselves. your partnerships with others will have limited conflict.

libra on the 8th: you likely have very aesthtically pleasing genitalia. you may benefit from inheritnace.

libra on the 9th: you might enjoy studying law, criminology, or sociology at a tertiary level. you might like to explore different philosophies and religions.

libra on the 10th: you might have a career in the legal field, or be attracted to professions of this nature. You are likely seen as very attractive and charasmatic in the public eye.

libra on the 11th: you are a fair and devoted friend, who will always remain neutral in frienship drama.

libra on the 12th: behind closed doors you are a very kind, gentle soul. you may struggle with balance in this lifetime.

scorpio on the 1st: you come across as intense, people are either intensely attracted to or repulsed by you, you cause a strong reaction in people when they first meet you. Your apperance is ever changing.

Scorpio on the 2nd: your possessions and values may undergo transformation regularly, meaning you may contsantly be revaluating what is important to you.

scorpio on the 3rd: you might have a sharp, intense voice. your relationship with siblings could be a bit full on, maybe you guys keep a lot of secrets from eachother.

scorpio on the 4th: homelife for you was unstable and rocky, maybe a lot of skeltons in yoru families closet, maybe you were the blacksheep in the family.

scorpio on the 5th: you might love reading self-help, psychology books for fun. in your dating life you might find it hard to date casually as you tend to lock onto people hard.

scorpio in the 6th: you may have health issues concerning UTI’s STD’s and other sexual or urinary diseases or infections. your daily routine is often not very set in stone and always undergoing change.

scorpio in the 7th: you attract intense, passionate and possessive partners, who may be prone to jealousy and trust issues. your partnerships with others can be transformative for you, whilst also running the risk if being quite toxic.

scorpio in the 8th: you love the occult and taboo, and thrive on delving deeper into people. probably hate small talk. always horny!!

scorpio on the 9th: you might be interested in studying the occult, astrology, psychology, or anything a little taboo.

scorpio in the 10th: might have or want a career in psychology, social science, criminology, law enforcement, post-mortum or forensics. Seen as shady, withdrawn, intense in your workspace.

scorpio in the 11th: an emotionally supportive and in depth friend!! you dont like superficial frienships and are great at keeping your friends secrets.

scorpio in the 12th: when you are alone, you are inquistive, have deeply penetrating thoughts and question everything!! you may struggle with openning up in this lifetime.

sagittarius in the 1st: come across as super jovial, free spitited, a little earthy, and a jokster. people think of you as the life of the party.

sagittarius in the 2nd: you may be very lucky when it comes to money, always seemingly falling on your feet and coming into money when you need it. you might be a bit reckless when it comes to spending!

sagittarius on the 3rd: might have a loud voice. likely has a very fun-loving not overly serious relationship with siblings, maybe they are loud and over the top types.

sagittarius on the 4th: might have a very big family, might have a very loud, and overly open family. might have moved around a lot as a kid (international perhaps).

sagittarius on the 5th: could have a lot of creative talents!! kids might be rowdy or have a lot of masculine energy. could enjoy casual dating quite a bit.

sagittarius on the 6th: doesnt like routine, always on the go, and likes to keep active. might have weak thighs and get sprains and strains in these areas often.

sagittarius on the 7th: attracts free spritied partners, who are flightly and not wanting to stay in one place at a time. may have a lot of luck in partnerships.

sagittarius on the 8th: might have a very experimental and active sex life. could enjoy other cultures taboos.

sagittarius on the 9th: a true intellectual, thrives in tertiary education environemt, could be a professor or full time academic or asprie to be.

sagittarius on the 10th: seen as a happy go lucky, larger than life type by the public at large. probably has or wants a career in; travel, philosophy, higher education, anthropology, sociology or similar.

sagittarius on the 11th: biggest cheerleader kind of friend, always goes above and beyond for others, has many friends. big goals and aspriations in life.

sagittarius on the 12th: has a rich intrapersonal existence, loves alone time, in fact where they thrive. can struggle with recklessness in this lifetime.

capricorn on the 1st: stern, firm, and professional outward look to the world. they can come across as ridgid to some, but nevertheless have intensely sharp bone structure and facial features which people find striking. age really well!!

capricorn on the 2nd: great with money!! knows how to save. values old school traditional values.

capricorn on the 3rd: clear, eloquent speach, extensive vocab. might have strained or very formal relationship with siblings.

capricorn on the 4th: traditinal upbringing, might have recieved little affection from parents, perhaps was more so encouraged to be seen and not heard.

capricorn on the 5th: takes dating very seriously, might literally interview potential romantic dates. kids may be very responsible and mature for their age.

capricorn on the 6th: very logical and structured daily routine, which rarely changes. might be prone to issues with bones (broken bones, osteoporosis etc.)

capricorn on the 7th: attracts partners who are classic romantics and very old school romantics, people who are very stuck in their ways, married to their work, and like being right. partnerships are very strcuted and reliable.

capricorn on the 8th: may undergo challenges with sexuality or sexual idenity which will take a long time to work through. may keep a lot of secrets.

capricorn on the 9th: might study business, entreprenurship, marketing, sales psychology, or medicine at a tertairy level or be interested in these areas.

capricorn on the 10th: seen as disciplinned, serious, and determined by the public. might be or want to be a business exec, CEO, start a small business, work in comerce or ecommerce, be a doctor or similar. might be slow to climb to corporate ladder.

capricorn in the 11th: might be slow to make friends, have a very small trusted circle. very determined at setting and achieveing their goals.

capricorn in the 12th: are strong on their own, and can keep a very logical level-headed mindset when left to their own devices. may struggle with overworking themselves in thsi lifetime.

aquarius in the 1st: seen as unusal, unique, and radical by peopke who first meet you. people might not know quite how to think of you, you might shock them.

aquarius in the 2nd: you hace strong values that closely allign with unpopular belifes, you might have very abstract world views, others dont agree with.

aquarius in the 3rd: your voice might be peircing, or strange to some. you and your siblings might have a very unusal relationship, you may not know them very well kr be quite distant.

aquarius in the 4th: homelife was out of the ordinary, definitely wasnt apart of a regualr neuclear family. may have moved around a lot, or had a very unsettling and unstable vibe. might have been thr odd one out.

aquarius on the 5th: may have unique talents. kids may be ostrascied for being weird or not like the other kids. you have a unique appraoch to dating.

aquarius in the 6th: you hate routine, and like to keep people guessing. may have ankle or calf problems, with lots of sprains, strains and breakages in these areas.

aquarius in the 7th: attract partners who are out of the ordinary or are free thinking radical extremeists. you partnerships can abruptly start and end.

aquarius in the 8th: unusal fetishes. bug interest in the taboo, you like to bring up topics that make others uncomfortable and shock.

aquarius in the 9th: might like to study engineering, information technology, digital art/design, computer programming, maths, science at a tertiary levl.

aquarius in the 10th: seen as weird, radical, or strange by the public. might be or want to be a scientist, an actor, a humanitarian, mathamatician, engineer or simialr.

aquarius on the 11th: massive people person, kind and inclusive to all, has many friends and social connections. understands society at a deep level.

aquarius in the 12th: allows themself to be weird and themsleves when they are alone. may struggle with imposter syndrome.

pisces on the 1st: come across a dreamy, idealistic, sensitive and out of this world. you are an illusion to others, and are quite the chameleon. always changing and morphing.

pisces on the 2nd: may not be very good with money or tangible possessions, may find it hard to ground themselves in the phsycial realm.

pisces on the 3rd: dreamy, soft, melodic voice. siblings were sesnitive, or you had a very emotionally connected relationshil with them.

pisces on the 4th: family life was a bit of a dream, you might not have always been aware of what was going on for you at home, what was real and what was not, parents might have been neglectful or dellusional.

pisces in the 5th: very spiritual and creatively inclined. datinf life might be a bit all over the place, might find it hard to tell when people are into you or not.

pisces in the 6th: very disorganised in temrs of dailr routine, always in a daze, finds it hard to complete necessary daily tasks, sometims lazy. might have feet aches or lymphatic system issues.

pisces in the 7th: attracts dellusional partners, who are not very realistic or grounded. may put up with bad behaviour from partners because they only see the good in others.

pisces in the 8th: very fluid sexuality and open to pretty much anything and everything. sex can be a spiritual experince for them.

pisces in the 9th: might study arts, interior design, medicine, or literature at a higher level.

pisces in the 10th: seen as lazy, day dreamy, and hard to out your finger on by colleuges and the public. might be or want to be an artist, designer, alternative therapist, chiropractor, psychic, psychologist or counsellor.

pisces in the 11th: friendhips might be very dellusional, may have less true quality friends than they realise because they are too forgiving and good at overlooking friends bad qualities.

pisces in the 12th: thrive by themsleves. have psychic tendnacies, and have the ability to absorb the undercurrents of emotional enegry of others. they can struggle with escapism in this life.

[kevin--of-desert-bluffs]

WTNV Quick Rundown - 11 - Wheat & What By Products

A classic episode on the way, full of tasty references (just so long as they don't contain Wheat or Wheat By Products). Hey, I don't have to keep explaining that this is a bulletpoint list of lore, facts and interesting quotes from the podcast and live shows for new fans and old to keep the juicy bits faster, right?

Or that you can click here to see the others or use the tags on my blog!

Today’s air quality is mauve and speckled. Welcome to Night Vale.

At first NV is encouraged to eat wheat and wheat by-products to support local farmers and commodity conglomerates. However, these products then turn into terrifying 3ft long deadly snakes, which greatly concerns the towns scientists. Later, the snakes become 'particularly evil and destructive form of spirit'. They are capable of physically moving objects up to 200 pounds and entering human souls of up to soulstrength 4.

NV is declared to be in a state of emergency. Anyone who has come into contact with them is considered infected and 'advised' to go to the quarantine area behind the playground in Mission Grove Park. Everyone else should go to the wheat and wheat by-product shelter which has been sitting unused for decades under the public library. Why was it already there? 'Prophecy'.

The scientists recommend creating a simple lean-to out of animal bones and mud and hiding there until the spiritual forces of wheat and wheat by-products have passed. Eventually the wheat and wheat by-products leave, and are made illegal for the future, to stop such a thing from happening again.

Representatives from the greater medical insurance community announced this week that major insurance providers would no longer cover government-disseminated illnesses. These ailments were created to control undesirable populations and include AIDS, most cancers, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, telekinesis, tingling, and any kind of food allergy. Doctors advise that the best way to avoid acquiring any of these conditions is to limit questionable public activities. Try not to be in a lower economic class, and give regularly to an approved religious organization. Take these precautions and you should live a healthy (or at least medically insured) life. - there's just so much here right you just have to see it all.

The Apache Tracker has returned, except his features now look Native American instead of white. However, he only speaks Russian and Cecil couldn't be bothered to translate his statement. He has taken to leaning on the hood of an old Honda Accord out near the DFBAAFC, shaking his head slowly and checking his watch.

Does his complete racial transformation make his previous actions less offensive, listeners? Write us a letter telling us what YOU think, and then put it away in a drawer for ten years. Reading it again, you’ll get a little pang of nostalgia for the person you used to be, once upon a time.

The City Council issued a warning against the manufacture and sale of discount Bloodstones. These Bloodstones are of inferior design/construction and have the potential to cause major accidents in even common, day-to-day chanting rituals. Such as, locust swarms, pus tornados, and the creation and subsequent obliteration of a mirror version of Night Vale (foreshadowing?) Anyone selling these Bloodstones will be put into the Dark Box pending erasure from recorded history. The lesser charge of buying or possessing them will be met with mere summary execution.

'Critics charge that the City Council is lying about all of this, due to the fact that the council owns the only certified Bloodstone factory in town, but the Council has vehemently denied this charge, by gibbering, howling, and knocking over microphones.'

Cecil experiences some technical difficulties (need for air, eye movement, gooey stuff inside).

Property taxes are going up again in NV. These are to pay for the usual things as well as NV's multi-billion-dollar pulsar development facility. Apparently they're close to creating a human-made neutron star. Cecil is pretty excited about this.

John Peters (you know, the farmer?) isn't happy about either though because he owns 150 acres so would have to pay a very large share. He's a peach farmer in a desert so has never raised a successful crop. He does however sell imaginary corn, which is apparently very popular and enjoyable and the only reason he's surviving.

The only citizen above paying taxes is Marcus Vanston (the richest man in town). 'When you're worth as much as Marcus Vanston, you have proved your value to society through hard work and determination and are no longer required to show anyone any further proof that you care about anything or anybody else, because you obviously do. Look at all your money. According to some, Marcus is worth over 5 billion dollars. And that’s 5 billion reasons Marcus is our town's greatest citizen.'

NV has an annual SorrowSong Sing Along. Citizens can send in their own SorrowSongs (Low Moans and Minor Key chants don't count though). The best composer, as indicated by the Weep-a-meter, will be ritualistically drowned in a pool of the townpeople's tears.

'Listeners, the City Council, for national security reasons, has replaced the following report with the sound of a burbling brook, followed by the sound of a running blender. [The sounds happen]'

The City Comptroller (Waynetta Barnett) was sent a $1.5 billion check to be used on recovering from an apparent 9.7 scale earthquake NV had, but did not feel or receive damage from. She theorises that the FEMA just saw the meter reading, declared NV a disaster area and sent a check. Since they 'probably have no interest in visiting' she plans to spend the money however, possibly on a new Mini Cooper Sedan.

'We asked Carlos about our inability to experience tectonic shifts. Carlos, lovely Carlos, had previously recorded other massive tremor activity underneath our city. His response was a few seconds of stammering, followed by a sigh and slow head shake. His eyes were distant, distracted, yet beautiful. I asked him where he got his shirt. It fit him so well. He said he would look at his notes and computer models and see if he could figure out what was going on. I don't know if he listens to me sometimes.' - Cecil will probably understand later that Carlos is Autistic and thus is a bit wrapped up in his SpIn (science).

Old Woman Josie reports that the angels have gathered in a circle in her living room and are chanting "The Bowling Alley." over and over.

Weather: "Cigarette Burns Forever" by Adam Green

'Many of you are huddled now (and forever) in the quarantine behind the playground in Mission Grove Park. For this community-minded sacrifice, we thank you. I know you were forced there by martial law, but still, you should be commended for your brave action. Terminal quarantine might seem scary now, but I understand they have a well stocked supply of canned lentils and the Silver Screen edition of Trivial Pursuit. And of course, you have the radio. I hope you will let my dulcet voice and our humble community station into your ears and hearts until your final wheat-loving breath.'

The next programme is a live broadcast of a man locked in a recording booth, silently staring at the microphone with intense suspicion.

And, as always, since always, and for always: Good night, Night Vale. Good night.

[sector-i-closed]

Stay in My Life Forever

Vampire!Seonghwa x pet!reader

Warning: Character death, blood drinking and angst

There was no going back. The vampire knew that your body's organs were shutting down and the doctors had done the best that they could for your illness.

You were still comatose, completely oblivious to your master who was loyally staying by your side with each breath that you expelled that grew weaker and weaker with each moment that passed.

Seonghwa knew that he would have his hands full if turning you would be successful. Knowing that the bloodlust would have to be managed in an orderly manner to prevent you from becoming a rogue vampire.

He felt as if his undead heart was being ripped from his chest, being squeezed of every emotion that he had been bottling up for centuries and the pain was hard for him to fathom but yet it was still there as an annoying, constant ache. You were still an innocent creature in his eyes and he wanted to keep you that way.

But the circumstances were urging him to turn you into his species and it worried him that you would end up killing something sooner than later.

Not that he was concerned for any humans that you could potentially kill but the loss of your innocence was something that he would have to accept he decided, his love for you stronger than any potenrially altered perception that he would have of you.

"Pet, You've tried many times to escape me but I refused to let you go and the same applies for you now. I know that you're growing tired but I will give you new life and we will be together forever with nothing or no one to ever separate us. My bride will never be taken from me again." Seonghwa watches your chest rise and fall weakly as you remained motionless.

He didn't know if you heard him or not but it seemed the heartbeat monitor became even weaker to spite him. "I will not hesitate to do it, Y/N." Seonghwa threatened, aware that it would be some time before a nurse would be making their rounds to check on your condition.

He knew you were close to death, the ashen palor that your skin was tinted with now was one that he was familiar with, your lips being void of color and life was another eerie reminder of death.

Another weak beep sounded, barely forming a blip on the monitor and he immediately moved in because his feelings moved him to, sinking his fangs into your neck and siphoning the intoxicating sweet substance that gave you life from your veins.

At one point as he savored your essence he sensed a feeling as if you were pushing against him weakly even as you were unconscious in his arms.

'No resisting, darling. You're my pet to keep in my life forever' Seonghwa thought to himself as he continued to drain you of your blood.

He did so quickly, not wasting a beat as he sliced the skin of his wrist until the crimson liquid dripped from the freshly created wound. The vampire held his wrist to your mouth and allowed his blood to seep into your mouth, his free hand caressing your throat to encourage you to swallow his essence down as you barely held on to life.

"Swallow, Y/N." He growled, his hand movements becoming even more insistent against your throat as he feared that you could slip away without having turned you.

It was a long, tedious ordeal that he went through but he maintained the patience to continue to coax you to swallow until finally your lips latched onto his wrist, suckling the blood from him vigorously and causing him to grunt in pleasure at the unfamiliar intimate feeling of being fed from.

"Greedy as always." Seonghwa purrs affectionately, only to be taken by surprise when your eyes fluttered open, revealing angry red orbs staring up at him with an intensity that rocked him.

He couldn't deny that you looked as attractive as ever but he was unused to it, even seeing you in your previous lifetime wasn't anything compared to seeing the intense emotion that burned in your eyes right now.

You pulled away from him indignantly, mouth stained red from his blood. "What have you done!?" You hissed, moving farther away from Seonghwa as if you were more frightened of him now than ever before your illness.

"I saved your life. I wasn't about to let you go again." He replied calmly, his eyes gazing at you in a reprimanding manner.

"It wasn't what I wanted! You never listen and you only hear what you want to hear!" You choked out, feeling thirst grip your senses and every sensation was overwhelming you thoroughly.

The lights in the hospital room were too bright for your newly heightened senses, plus the scents and sounds were equally disabling.

"Baby, this will work out for both of us." Seonghwa reached for you, only for you to bare your newly formed fangs and lunge at him.

"Oof!" You yelped out loudly, his hands roughly pinning your wrists down. "I'm not letting you go. You're going to come around and thank me for what I've done." He stared down at you fiercely, the look in his eyes made you even more thirsty and you hated it.

"I never wanted to be like you." You growled as you submitted to him begrudgingly.

"You don't have to be like me. I only want you to stay in my life forever."

[vampiresuns]

Valerian Cassano | Death Sits In Their Garden, Death Rules Them All

Some lore fanfic about the ties of Anatole’s family with magic, and the most powerful witch among them all: Valerian Cassano, great grandfather to Anatole, and in the Cassano-verse, also grandfather to Valerius.

I have to thank Sabina, @arcanecadenza​, for letting me borrow The Forge, from her very, very inspiring fic ‘I’m Not Calling You A Liar’, from her Pre-Canon Cadenza Series.

CW for child loss, and of course, death, necromancy and demons.

The painting featured is Vanitas, by Katherine Stone.

There weren’t many witches or magicians amongst both the Cassano and the Radošević. Magic was a scarce gift in their family, jumping generations or from one collateral to another, manifesting in specific gifts most of the time. Maybe more of them would be tied to magic if their political tradition wasn’t so strong, or if they simply knew better. It is hard to give a name to that which we don’t know, to that which we simply take as fact.

The topic was rarely openly discussed; it wasn’t taboo, nothing was between them. Instead, it had become something only those with magical abilities themselves discussed. As long as they were aware they had them, of course. Who else would understand? 

So you had Anatole, the man of light and languages, the favourite of the Gods of the Sun, as his more religious relatives would say. You had Amparo, Lady Death, the girl of sand and glass. Milenko, the poet born in water. You had Vlad, the alchemist. You had had Anzano, may they find rest, the Priest. Yet, as present and even notorious as their magic could be, none of them bore the gift and the weight Valerian Cassano did.

Not many people knew about it.

Ironically, as the same would happen to his grandchildren Vlad and Valerius years later, Valerian was not raised by his parents but by his aunt Hyppolita Valperga. Hyppolita was a clever woman, who laughed little; ambitious and stoic, yet still warm in her own way. Valerian wasn’t much like her, he was much more like his mother Carmina, Hyppolita’s sister.

Yet he had gotten one thing from Hyppolita — other than what being raised by her gave him: her necromancy.

Hyppolita was an outcast of necromancing circles herself. The magical art had fallen in disgrace out of the greed and corruption of some, something which austere, upright Hyppolita (or ‘Lilita, as only her husband could call her) could not condone. “They,” she used to say with a weary sigh, “pretend to become Death themselves. They are not Death, for they rule nothing. We are simply messengers of death-energy, conductors of it. Everything which we bring back to this world is a loan, Death themselves has made us.”

“They will die again, Valerian. Everyone always does.”

The one indulgent thing Hyppolita allowed herself, was her orchid garden. Valerian remembered her sitting in it, humming a song to herself — a song old and arcane, belonging to her own Death God, or rather, the version of Death she approached.

“Death is one and the same, Valerian,” she would say among her abnormally vivid orchids. They almost seemed to whisper, almost alive. “Death is one and the same for everyone. The Death Arcana, the Gods of Death of different cultures — like Morana, your friend Elysian’s Goddess of death — they are all one Death. Death is equal, death is not boisterous. Death does not want you to die, why would it? You will die anyway, and wanting has nothing to do with it.”

Hyppolita’s Death was a, was a... was— Valerian had no words for it. Hyppolita had taken him through the realms thrice to meet Death, and once he had gone alone. To ask questions to a being vaster than he will ever dream of being, small and insignificant and mortal. Death seized him up like he was as light as air.

Hyppolita’s Death’s voice was a sound Valerian was never able to hear anywhere else.

“Something is happening to Death, something has already happened to it, Valerian. We are witnessing the Death of something which cannot be killed.”

As he grew up, he always thought Hyppolita was being unnecessarily ominous. When he became older he realised it wasn’t Hyppolita that was ominous, it was him who did not understand. It would be many years before he understood.

In the interim, he became of age, and with becoming of age, he chose a profession. He did not become a doctor, like Aunt Hyppolita was, instead he became an actor. To his surprise, his aunt approved of it: “An actor is a vessel, just like a necromancer is. You have a wonderful voice, Valerian, use it. Death will be always there to guide you.”

Hyppolita was right, in her own way. She tended to be. Valerian was 22 when he realised he did not see things as the majority of people did, that he did not affect things like the rest of people did. The more he studied, the better he became at acting, the more he practised, the better he became at necromancy. However, per his aunt’s request, he told no one. Those who knew would know, and those whom he hadn’t told but knew anyway are the ones Valerian should beware.

That’s how he met Quaestor Valdemar.

The Quaestor was a void. Their skin dewy like the most alive of youth, yet ashy like a corpse in the mortuary. Their eyes open and alert, with some of the longest eyelashes Valerian had every seen in someone, which was saying something: not only he was dating Iovanus Cassano, who had very full eyelashes, but he himself was known for his eyes: almond eyes with amber irises, an impossible shade of grey-golden and eyelashes like a fan.

The eyelashes weren’t enough to set aside the off sensation in them, nor the feeling that their eyes weren’t just on their face, but everywhere at once. The Quaestor simply felt wrong. They went to his plays for mere three weeks, yet was never seen in the audience nor ever commented about the nature of the play they just saw. The actors were not of their concern, nor their jobs.

They were there for Valerian.

He mentioned this to Hyppolita after the second time they came, as Iovanus was very disconcerted with the behaviour. “Caro mio,” he had said, “no one is exactly sure what Valdemar does. All I know is that my father refers to them as the Palace’s cockroach problem.”

Hyppolita always saw her nephew’s plays. All of them on the opening night, and the closing night, but never in between, but the mere mention of the Quaestor made her go to the next one.

“That’s odd, Aunt, I didn’t know you knew them.”

“I do not, and I have no intention to.” Valerian did not understand.

What the Quaestor wanted of him was to give him a book: a leather bound journal titled The Forge. Valerian hadn’t seen Valdemar in the audience, but he knew they would come anyway. Something, no, someone could tell him. It was a whispering in the hallways which came from no one, it was the life energy pulsating in things, it was the prickling sensation in his gums, the eyes on the back of his neck. It was the shrill voice of his Aunt Hyppolita’s death murmuring: Double, double.

The Quaestor was in his changing room, as they always were when the play ended, fingers gloved and— holding a book.

“Quaestor Valdemar, did you enjoy the play?”

Valdemar ignored him. “Do you know what this is? I believe this will help you where your true talent lies. You have much of it.” They smiled. Had their teeth always been that sharp?

“Is it about acting?”

“There’s no need to pretend with me. Why don’t you just take it, Valerian?”

Valerian never took it, not from the Quaestor at least. Hyppolita made it to his changing room before he even had a chance, treating Valdemar like an unruly pupil, with short, precise sentences about how they could go now and drop it, as Valerian was her child. Valerian could tell in the way she stood without taking her eyes of them that Hyppolita was afraid. He had never seen her afraid.

To his surprise the Quaestor left, and a week later Hyppolita asked him to have tea with her, and lock the room behind her.

“That book, The Forge is a compilation done by a naive Necromancer who thought compiling all the knowledge of people who thought themselves Gods would help someone. I do not want our art to be lost, but losing it also means corrupting it.”

Valerian only listened, sipping his tea in silence.

“Everything that’s in it— Valerian listen to me: I have never downplayed your gift. Never have I ever seen a Necromancer with such raw potential as you. You could do everything that is in this book with the necessary application and beyond. Maybe for some reason that I cannot explain you are such a remarkale actor because you have unused potential as a necromancer. Maybe both gifts are not related.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose with her gloved hands.

Gloved hands, just like the Quaestor’s. Just like the hands of many necromancers he had met.

“Aunt why do you use gloves?”

“Because I’m a Doctor.”

“Aunt.”

“Necromancy takes a toll on you: either in your life force, if you’re too rash, or in what you practice it with. We use our hands. Mine are in a deplorable state. Valerian if you ever wish to know how powerful a Necromancer is, look at their hands. Have you ever wondered why your hands are freckled and marked like an old person’s despite belonging to young skin?”

Valerian looked at his hands. Seeing that Hyppolita was right he sat on them, making his aunt laugh.

“You’ll be fine, if you are not rash with your gift. You can read this book if you like, I will mentor you... but do not accept it from the Quaestor — I do not know what Valdemar is, but I fear the answer, or a hint of it, is in this book. There are many an occult thing in this word, the arcane is not to be meddled with without knowing the consequences: magic comes with a price, life exists on the basis of Death, Valerian. You die on stage to bring life to a character. Life is nothing but an extension of that.”

“The realm of the Arcana are only 22, that is a limited number for such an infinite universe. Do not wander off. Do not become great at the price of becoming something you are not. This book whispers, and whatever voice you feed is the voice that, in your own self, becomes louder.”

From that day on Valerian studied with the same zeal he applied to his acting, and to those things in life which mattered to him. Valerian married Iovanus, and he studied necromancy. Valerian and Iovanus had a daughter, and he practised. That daughter, Matilda, grew and Valerian began using gloves — his hands hadn’t deteriorated as much as he feared, something his husband was grateful for, but he was afraid he would accidentally harm Matilda. He turned 31, slowly walking away from acting to involve himself with the affairs of the City, and he practised. 

Many things happened in his life: his daughter became an adult, she married herself, she had a child too young, and refused to take responsibility for it when Valerian or Iovanus were there, or her husband’s brother, Mircea, and his own husband, her cousin Florentino. Through doubt and fights, through love and reconciliation, Valerian lived between the living and the dead, his craft never leaving him.

Until his daughter died.

He didn’t remember anything of the first year after her death — after Mircea and Florentino decided they would take the children in, he sat on his grief and there he stayed numb for a year. The obsession came to him on the second year.

What had he done wrong? Hadn’t he been affectionate and educative as Hyppolita had been with him? Hadn’t Iovanus been attentive and had he not lead with example? No matter what they did, everything always went wrong, and Death...

Death. He knew Death: he could bring his daughter back. The thought ate at him, always in the tip of his tongue, always in the back of his mind. His hours melted and slipped away from him, his sleep was fitful, his meals scarce; every waking hour of many months blurred together into one question: what if they could do it all again? What if this time, they did it right? If this time Matilda would understand the duty of parenthood and the Consulship, so Iovanus never had to deny her the position, so her children knew her mother.

He could fix it, he could—

He looked at his hands. He had never noticed he had Hyppolita’s nail-beds. He could bring his daughter back, but at what cost? Would she be her? Would he bring her back only to repeat every single mistake? Were they mistakes? What was the price, how would he explain it? He would be a fool if he pretended to know everything that was out there, in every single realm. Bringing Matilda back would not change anything, but himself.

From that day on, Valerian stopped practising.

In the spot where he sat flowers bloomed the brightest, plants seemed to never wither or die. The rest of his family — the ones who do not know of his magic — as well as the waiting-staff of the Palazzo Cassano have stopped trying to make sense of it; old Valerian Cassano is pushing past the centenary in terms of age and is, by all means, well conserved. Most people assumed it has less to do with Valerian himself, and more to not having led a life of excess in his youth, aided by the resources the family he had married into had.

They were all wrong.

Valerian, well into the first decade over the hundred years of age had many reasons to live: he had Vlad, who had grown from an angry, hurt teenager, into a wonderful father and attentive husband. He had Valerius, so unlike his mother while having the same attitude of hers. So full of mistakes like himself, slowly trying to heal from things he did not speak of. He had Anatole, his bright, so very alive great grandson. He had Milenko who always read his poems to him, and he had his most wonderful pupil, Amparo.

Her magic was nothing like his, and for that Valerian was grateful.

He had stopped practising necromancy altogether. Only once he was close to admitting to anyone the reason why — a reason he hadn’t even told his husband, now dead. Valerius had come to him, sitting with him in the winter garden with his glass of wine in hand.

“You knew,” he said. A statement, not a question.

“Yes, of course I knew.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? You could’ve told anyone, you could’ve told Ae— you could’ve told Aelius.”

“I think he also knew, in his own particular way, but no one would gain anything from it. I did what I could, trying to make you open up for once in your life, but you’re stubborn as a ram.”

Valerius was quiet for a long time. “Can I tell you something?”

“Always, my child.”

As he spoke, he stopped being Valerius, the Consul, and instead became Valeriy, his grandson, confused and lost, prideful and complex as he had always been. Valerian listened as he told him about wine drinking rams, and realms beyond the realms they inhabit. Of goats and hungry devils.

Valerius stopped mid-sentence. “You already know this too.”

“Valeriy, have you ever wondered why haven’t I died yet?”

“To annoy all of us, surely.”

Valerian laughed. “You have Matilda’s attitude. Don’t look so guilty, I know you don’t remember her. That is her fault, not yours.”

Valerian looked at his nail beds, then straight ahead. “Once I had a great teacher, she taught me things I cannot teach you, don’t ask me what it is — she told me not to become great at the expense of becoming someone I am not. That is all I can teach you from this. Do not try to become someone you’re not.”

Valerius would ask him if he reminded him of her, to which Valerian would say no. As unlikely as it could be, his grandson did have a conscience, unlike his daughter. Valerius reminded him way more of the men who had raised him than his own daughter. Valerian had made his peace with it.

He remembered her, and that was enough. Even in death she was impossible to contact, but in all honesty Valerian hadn’t tried: he preferred to remain the father of a dead, irresponsible daughter, than become someone who trespassed the limits of his own craft so much, he became someone he could not recognise.

“Honesty can hurt,” Hyppolita had told him once ,“but those who run from pain are doomed to lose all capacity to remain human.”

[headfulloffantasy]

How to cure a soul

Disclaimer: heavy illness, near death experience, heavy angst Pairing: Reed900 Setting: Human!AU, Hospital!AU, sickfic

@definietlynotsatan inspired me with a headcanon about Doctor!Nines and Patient!Gavin a while back and I just had to write something for it. Thank you so much for the inspiration! This is just something like a draft, but I hope you all like it.

Nines is the best doctor in his hospital. His reputation is widely known, they say nobody has died under his care before. What they don't know is that it's because he is ruthless and only focused on his statistic. He seems really friendly on the outside, but he doesn't really care about his patients or their fates. When he notices that a case is hopeless, he will ditch it and let somebody else take over so that it doesn't show as a death on his record sheet.

Then one day, he gets a patient whose healing potential isn't that bad, but the idiot is really stubborn and uncooperative, a Detective injured on the job. Gavin looks right through Nines' facade and sees that he isn't really invested in Gavin aside from curing him. So he avoids some of the treatment and sabotages Nines along the way, refusing to eat or pulling out tubes because the beeping is getting on his nerves. His only agenda is to piss off Nines as much as possible. Gavin himself just wants to be left alone, he feels lonely and hopeless despite Tina visiting sometimes. Nines is furious of course, how does this jerk dare to act against the best doctor's advises?! It's almost like he doesn't want to get better!

Nines tries to ditch Gavin's case at some point, but he isn't allowed to.

"Jeffrey, how am I supposed to heal someone that doesn't want to be healed?! This is just pointless!"

"I don't know, come up with something for god’s sake! He is the Cyberlife CEO's brother, we are paid a shit ton of money, but for that I have to assign him my best doctor! That's you, Nines. I don't care how you do it, but do it. Heal his soul first, convince him. Make him want to get better."

"Heal his soul, are you kidding me, Jeffrey?!"

"Do I look like I am?"

Nines has to continue looking after Detective Reed. That asshole is really getting on his nerves, if he won’t get better soon, he will fuck up the doctor’s record.

One time, Gavin refuses to eat again and Nines yells at him to shove that food in his mouth already.

"What are you going to do, doctor? Force me to? That wouldn't be good for my healing process, would it?"

Nines desperately tries to calm down and not strangle the stubborn idiot with his stethoscope. When he is outside, he tries some of the hospital food and finds out that it tastes horrible. No wonder Gavin was refusing to eat that shit. When he sees Tina visit someday, he notices a special brand of chocolate bars she brings with her. So the following day, Nines buys one of them and gifts it to Gavin, who at first is really suspicious but then he accepts it.

As the time passes, Gavin manages to open Nines' eyes for the situation of his patients more while Gavin himself becomes calmer and more cooperative. They establish this habit of Nines smuggling in food from outside and he will spend his lunch break in Gavin's room, number 87. At first it is to monitor his patient's eating habit, but soon it becomes his favourite part of the day. They spend their lunch together, sometimes with sushi because Gavin loves it, sometimes with something else, trying out all food opportunities around the hospital. Gavin starts to get better, he eats and accepts treatment. One day, Nines is on his way to a meeting that could be important to him and his career. But as he walks down the hallway, he passes Gavin's room and sees that the man is crying. Silent and it's not obvious at first sight, yet Nines knows him by now. When he enters, Gavin quickly sniffles and wipes away the tears.

"I... have an allergy."

Nines just sits down on the edge of his bed.

"I know your clinical record, Gavin. You don't have any allergies."

That gets both of them smiling a bit.

"Don't you have to be somewhere?" The doctor thinks about it, but then he surprises himself. "Nothing important. Now tell me what's up."

Gavin opens up to him and tells him that he feels lonely. He has a hard time falling asleep due to anxiety. Nines had noticed the dark circles under the man's eyes. Gavin just rambles on and Nines listens, but when the man tears up again, he can't help but reach out and pull Gavin into his arms. He probably shouldn't be doing this as the man is his patient, but fuck it. To distract him, Nines asks about Gavin's life and he gladly tells about his cat and life outside of the hospital and his past. After some time, the Detective gets tired and falls asleep under Nines’ watch. The medical leaves, but he comes back the next day. He works way over his shifts anyway, so he can spend the evening just as well in Gavin's room and it isn’t unusal anymore to find the doctor in room number 87. They will talk and Nines stays until his patient falls asleep, so he doesn’t have to be alone anymore. Every time Gavin wakes up, there is a chocolate bar or a note next to his bed.

Every now and then they will go on a walk outside, though never far as Gavin is still weak. Nines starts to worry, because yes, he accepts Nines' help now, but somehow he isn't really getting better. Losing weight instead of gaining. Gavin doesn't seem to mind, he's just happy to get out of his hospital bed from time to time. They get closer and closer until one day, Gavin decides to kiss Nines.

“Stop frowning and kiss me.”

The medical complies gladly and leans down for their lips to meet, clinging to Gavin with his dear life. He has fallen so hard for that stubborn idiot, the man is the first person he is genuinely worried about. Nines knows he has to find a way to heal Gavin, this time for him as a person and not as a number on Nines' record sheet. But he feels like his repertoire is at its end. Gavin tries to calm him of course and Nines wants to believe him, but there still is that feeling in his stomach. He feels so guilty because he knows that a few months back, he would have ditched Gavin's case now.

The next day Nines comes to work and wants to visit Gavin in his room to say good morning, though when he enters, he immediately sees the red alarm in one of the rooms. Number 87. The blood freezes in his veins.

Nines runs there as fast as he can and when he enters, the room is already full of medical staff trying to revive the man he grew to love. The doctor almost can't bear the sight of Gavin's limp body getting electroshocked and that horrible sound of a heart flatlining.

Nines rushes towards Gavin and pushes away the people standing around the bed. He takes over and while trying to revive Gavin, he screams at him that he isn't allowed to leave, that he can't leave Nines behind. Tears run down his face and cloud his vision.

“Open your eyes, Gavin, please! You- you can’t leave me like this! Come back to me, I beg you!”

And Gavin does. He comes back to life with a sharp inhale and coughs while the screen slowly goes back to steady beeps. Nines can't hold himself back from pulling the man into his arms and he weeps like a child. There are shaky arms wrapping around him, drawing soothing circles on his back. Of course Gavin would care for him, even though the Detective just barely escaped death.

At a control screening, they find out that Gavin has a tumour that had been unnoticed before. That's what impeded his healing process and ate away at him. The other doctors offer him a chemotherapy, but it's his decision to make. Gavin asks them to leave Nines and him alone, because he sees how stunned the other is looking. He knows the percentages for recovering from cancer. He has treated this condition all his life.

"Hey Nines, you okay?"

Nines can't suppress the small sad smile. Gavin is always caring for others first, although it should be Nines supporting the Detective now and not the other way around. He can’t help the panic creeping up in him though and his hands are shaking. Immense guilt rolls over him, mixed with overwhelming fear and sorrow. The medical knows he would have ditched Gavin's case here a few months back as he would see it hopeless. A hopeless case not worth looking into more. But now he wants to stay and fight and he begs Gavin to fight as well. The Detective hugs him tight when he starts crying again.

"Nines, I want to go home-"

"No, Gavin, no, please don't do that to me, I almost lost you once, I can't ... I just can't-" Gavin interrupts him with pressing his lips on Nines’. The contact immediately soothes the taller man and he melts into the kiss, salty from his own tears.

"I will fight, don't worry. I will do everything you say, no matter how much it sucks. But I want to get home, Nines. I am sick of hospitals."

That is something the doctor can accept. They decide that with Nines’ help, Gavin can get back home and come to the hospital to get his treatment. Nines stays with him and basically moves in to assist the Detective with his daily tasks. Gavin introduces him to his cat he had told him so much about. Nines takes time off to care for the Detective and help him at home and to get to where he has to be. As he never really took a vacation before, the doctor has a lot of days left and Fowler helps him get off from work for the duration of Gavin needing help.

So the treatment goes on and Nines stays.

They become a real couple, going through good phases and really shitty ones. But Gavin doesn't have to go through them alone anymore. Nines cooks for him, cares for the cat, they will watch movies all day snuggling in bed and of course Nines helps him when shit gets bad and Gavin gets sick. But they make it through it together. And slowly but steady, Gavin gets better, becoming stronger and gaining weight day by day. Despite puking and the side effects that freaking suck, Gavin is the happiest he has been in a long time. There is someone holding him at night, someone he wakes up to in the morning, snoring next to him. He is so in love that he feels like he can get through everything. Yes, the rest sucks and sometimes he doesn't stop cursing at how miserable he feels. But Nines is right there with him.

They are on a good way and Gavin gets better and better, beating the cancer. His hair is slowly growing back and Nines is really fascinated. Yes, he knew the man used to have a beard, but he never knew how HAIRY Gavin was. Scruff along his jaw and cheeks, soft fluff on chest, arms, legs, head and a bit on his stomach. Nines adores it, always letting his palm caress over the flimsy hair when they lie in bed. It makes Gavin laugh and he tilts his head to place a gentle kiss on Nines’ lips.

"Yes, I am prickly, not as baby butt smooth as you are." the Detective teases with a weird wink.

Nines has to admit that this was exactly the side of Gavin he fell so hard for. His rough but kind personality, the charm of all his sharp edges. With a swift move, the Detective turns them around, arms pulling Nines closer. He has regained a lot of strength over the last weeks and Nines feels himself blush at how easy the man shifts him around. He lets his fingers roam through the short strands of hair on Gavin's head and the Detective closes his eyes with a pleased hum.

"I know." Nines whispers as their hands lace together. "And I love it. I love you."

[strawberrysoup]

Let’s Review || Chapter 6

Peter Parker knew that his big sister would do anything for him to be safe and happy. She’d given up everything for him twice over already and would do it again in a heartbeat. And that’s why, when the criminal mastermind Tony Stark started inextricably following him around, he didn’t say a word. Because he knew without a doubt Penny would do whatever she had to if it meant keeping Peter safe. He had to protect her, just like she always protected him. He never considered what would happen if Stark decided both Parker siblings were worth taking. Never considered who else in Stark’s inner circle would agree. He just wanted to protect her and yet somehow, they both ended up with needles in their necks.

relationship: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character/Bucky Barnes, background Peter Parker/Tony Stark rating: Explicit warnings: Dark Steve Rogers, Dark Bucky Barnes, Dark Tony Stark, Dark Avengers, kidnapping, non-con/dub-con elements, underage Peter Parker, emotional and psychological abuse, very dark. extra warnings for abduction and creepy interactions with a minor. 

God, Penny had a brutal fucking headache. The light coming through the window meant that once again she’d forgotten to pull the curtains shut before passing out on the couch. She must’ve fallen asleep crying again, it would explain the serious dry mouth and pounding head.

“Peter?” She called out, groaning in pain immediately after, “augh… Peter, are you getting ready for school?”

There was no reply and she couldn’t hear him shuffling around in his room, which was a bad sign. She must’ve forgotten to set her alarm and Peter had probably slept through his own. Swallowing hard, she raised her arms and dug her palms into her closed eyes.

“Peter, you gotta wake up babe,” trying to raise her head made a wave of nausea roll through her body and she clapped a hand over her mouth just in case.

She might’ve been sick, could it be food poisoning? If she was sick, Peter was probably also sick. That must’ve been why he wasn’t getting ready for school. Oh, fuck she needed to call into her job at the daycare, there was no way she’d be able to deal with screaming babies with low immune systems for six hours. Blindly reaching down over the edge of the couch, she furrowed her brow in confusion when her hand didn’t hit the floor. The couch was low and uncomfortable, she was barely off the floor at the best of times.

Prying her eyes open was going to hurt and she really, really didn’t want to invite that level of pain into her life. Assuming her sense of space was off because of her sickness, she just reached further down. And further. And further. Until she reached too far and pitched herself off the edge of the couch. Hitting the ground was bone jarring and stirred a memory just out of reach, of falling and slamming her head into the hard wood flooring. It wasn’t an usual occurrence, she fell and hit her head all the time, but the carpet she landed on was weird. Super weird, they didn’t have carpet in their apartment.

Penny’s eyes snapped open, letting in the brutal light and also the terrifying revelation that she wasn’t in her apartment. She hadn’t fallen off her couch. She’d fought with Tony Stark in her apartment and smashed her head against the ground before they stuck a needle in her neck. They, there had been a second man who’d come out of nowhere.

Immediately she forced her knees under her and pushed up to her feet. She didn’t know whether it was the blow to the head or the drugs but her entire sense of balance was off and she went careening into the wall, smashing her head for the second time in what she assumed was a single day, against a shelf. A yelp and a crash later she was on the floor again, both hands clutching the side of her head that had gone into the corner of the wood. Was she bleeding? Fuck she was probably bleeding.

“Oh sweetheart,” she hadn’t heard a door open or any footsteps but suddenly a pair of heavy arms came around her, lifting her carefully off the ground and setting her on what she now realized was a bed, “stay still, you’re bleeding. J, call Bruce, Penny might need stitches.”

“Right away, sir. He asked me to inform you he must run to the medical wing to retrieve supplies but will be in shortly. ”

Her eyes were clenched shut, against the pain and the fear, but Penny recognized Tony Stark’s voice immediately. He was sitting next to her, holding her tight to his side with a towel or something pressed to her bleeding wound. He was making a hushing sound, petting her head with his unused hand.

“Off,” she choked, squirming in his hold, “fuck—get, get off of me.”

“Calm down, Penny—”

“No!” it came out as a shriek and she curled her hands into fists, lashing out in his general direction, “get off of me you fucking bastard! Get away from me!”

One of her hits must’ve landed because he yelped abruptly, arms going slack from where they’d held her and she launched herself off the bed. Once again she realized her entire sense of equilibrium was gone and collapsed on the floor, forcing her eyes to stay open despite the nausea and started to crawl towards the only door she could see.

“Damn, Penny, that’s one hell of a left hook,” arms wrapped around her waist and hauled her up and backwards, causing her to screech in fury and indignation, “Don’t make me tie you up, sweet girl, cause I will.”

“So, I take it she’s not a docile kidnapping victim?”

Her head snapped around, eyes landing on a man now standing in the doorway in shock. He was about Stark’s age, hair graying slightly about the temples and some wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes.

“She’s a spitfire, Brucie bear, a real shit kicker,” Tony grunted as he forcefully manipulated her onto the bed again, this time keeping her in his lap with her extremities restrained by his own, “you’re so small, where is all this force coming from—Jesus!” he ducked his head to the side swiftly, just barely avoiding the back of her skull slamming into his nose.

He brought his arms up, still holding her wrists, and tucked her head tightly between his shoulder and neck while keeping her wound exposed for Bruce to look at.

“Her head went into the corner of the shelf over there, I’d show you the spot but my hands are full at the moment.” The bastard was making jokes . She had been drugged and kidnapped and was being bodily restrained after waking up in a strange room and he was making fucking jokes .

Penny hadn’t considered ‘murder’ to be a logical solution to her Tony Stark problem but maybe it should’ve been her go to. Actually, now that she thought of it, there was still time.

“Wow, I can literally hear how badly you want to kill me right now,” Stark pressed the side of his face against hers, “what kind of expression is on her face right now Bruce? Does she look like a murder kitten?”

“She definitely doesn’t look happy Tony,” he rolled his eyes, leaning against the bed to get a better look at Penny’s scalp, “I’m sorry we’re meeting like this Penny, I’m Bruce. Any bumps and bruises around here go through me, anything serious needs to go to medical though. Other than this, how are you feeling? Dizziness, nausea?”

For a moment, Penny almost answered just based on instinct. She hadn’t been to the doctor in ages, but he gave off the same vibe as a pediatrician. Instead, Penny pressed her lips together and averted her eyes, not that she’d been able to see him well with her head pinned against Stark’s neck anyway. Bruce hadn’t been one of her kidnappers but he was obviously, painfully complicit. He knew everything and wasn’t trying to help her escape.

“Come on baby, you can tell Bruce,” Stark tucked both of her wrists in one of his hands and brought the other up to cup her face, stroking his thumb along her jaw line, “he just wants to make sure you’re okay. It looked like she was having trouble staying on her feet—J, any observations?”

“ Ms. Parker seemed to wake in acute pain, movements suggest nausea and light sensitivity. Potential for dizziness and vertigo, and a loss of balance. ”

“Hm, she might have a concussion. Tones, you said she hit her head, right?”

“Twice now, once at her apartment and just now off the shelf.”

“Let’s get her to medical, I want to run a CT scan just in case,” Bruce shifted to bring himself into Penny’s line of vision, “I’m sure you have a concussion. Usually, I wouldn’t bother with a CT scan at this point, but since you hit your head twice in such a short period of time I want to make sure there’s no bleeding in your brain. Have you ever had a CT scan before?”

A moment of silence passed before Tony sighed, pressing his thumb firmly into the joint of her jaw, “answer, Penny.”

The threat in his movement was clear and Penny swallowed heavily, “no.”

“Good girl,” a slow, victorious smile crossed Tony’s lips at her response and he moved his thumb, continuing to stroke her face softly, “J, call the soldiers, we’ll need help to transport her safely and I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to assist.”

“They’ve been pacing the living room for the last three hours, I’m sure they’ll be here in half a minute, tops.”

Soldiers. Tony Stark employed soldiers. Of course he did. He had the government and the police in his pocket, why not the fucking military too. It was all a goddamn conspiracy and holy mother of God, Penny’s head was throbbing so bad.

She must’ve made a noise or something, because Stark was back to cooing at her a moment later, turning his head to nuzzle his face against hers, “we’ll get you some medicine soon, angel, just hang on.”

Penny pressed her eyes shut tightly, wishing he’d stop with the pet names. What was it with assholes and pet names? They’d been effectively ruined for her, if she ever got out of this she’d make everyone call her Penelope forever, no exceptions.

The door to the room opened with so much force it crashed into the wall with a bang. If she hadn’t been so tightly restrained in Stark’s grip, she would’ve jumped. Instead her muscles just went rigid and she prepared to be manhandled further as they brought her to ‘medical’.

“Oh, doll,” why was that voice so familiar, why did it feel like she’d been electrocuted by a 50-volt battery, “our poor baby.”

“Just wait until she tries to beat the shit out of you, Barnes, you won’t be cooing over her then,” Stark snorted, turning Penny’s face again and tapping her nose, “she’s a Hellcat.”

“She’s tried to beat the shit out of you multiple times now, Tony, and you’re still ‘cooing’ over her,” Bruce shot back, his voice fond.

He laughed and stood up with her still clutched in his arms, causing her eyes to pop open as her equilibrium shifted for the 80 th time that day. Penny’s head lolled slightly, until her eyes caught sight of the two men moving towards her.

She wasn’t sure when the culmination of her bad luck would come, when it would all wrap up in a grisly end. Soon, hopefully, because as the blows kept coming she wondered if she was going to be able to keep up.

Bucky and Steve, from the fucking coffee shop, were apparently the soldiers Stark had summoned to assist with her transit. If she’d been rigid before, it was nothing compared to the way her muscles pulled taught at the realization. A complete, overwhelming sense of fight or flight began pulsing through her veins—it had been a setup, everything at the coffee shop had been staged.

“So, the bad news is that I think she recognizes you,” Stark’s voice was full of laughter as he felt her begin gearing up for a throw down, “the good news is I think if I let go she’d hit the floor before she managed to hit one of you.”

No, Penny thought carefully, the bad news was that she might’ve been a dumbass but she wasn’t stupid enough to try to fight four men at the same time while half incapacitated. The bad news was that Penny had been a real shit kicker when she was in high school and maybe hadn’t grown out of it quite as well as she thought. The bad news was that at some point, they were going to let their guards down.

Penny was a little ball of chaos, but every inch of her was patient. She could wait.

***

The paranoia had started setting in around noon, when Penny had stopped answering his text messages abruptly. It would’ve been one thing if she’d been at work, but Peter knew she’d called out.

She was unusually available even at work, so it was extremely weird of her not to answer when she had the day off. By 1pm he’d placated himself by deciding she must’ve been getting her nails done like she’d said earlier and couldn’t answer because her hands were busy. But it didn’t take that long to get a manicure and when another hour passed without an answer, Peter felt his chest begin to tighten.

It was their last real day together for what could be forever. She should’ve been glued to her phone the way he was, desperate to live in his pocket for just a little while longer. He wanted to tell her about the gross apple he’d bought during lunch and how the soap dispenser was out in his favourite bathroom and ask if she knew about geomagnetic reversal.

By the time school was out, he heavily considered skipping academic decathlon practice to just go straight home. He’d be shipped off to Oregon in a few days anyway, so what was the point? But he forced himself to go anyway, if only to spend a little more time with MJ and Ned. And Flash wasn’t there, since MJ had punched him so hard in the stomach earlier that the asshole puked. Peter’s cheek still twinged from where Flash had punched him over the stupid chemistry test.

Practice had stretched on half way past forever and he’d hugged both of his friends for a solid minute before literally running away. The idea of really saying goodbye to either of them made him want to throw up and he couldn’t look at them any longer without breaking down. So he’d ignored Ned’s shouting and bolted for the subway as fast as he could.

Penny’s solution to his Tony Stark problem was insane. Peter wasn’t even sure if it would work, or if Tony would somehow intervene. He had so many connections, it was like running from an entire army instead of just one man.

Peter hadn’t actually seen Tony since Penny had caught them walking near the apartment complex. He almost wondered if Tony had been scared off by someone seeing them together, as if worried about being caught. Caught. Because Peter was 17 and there was no reason for a 40-year-old man to have any interest in him unless it was creepy and Stark needed to be caught .

But he knew that Tony wouldn’t be dissuaded by something so simple. If Penny was right, and he was almost sure she was because she always was somehow, then Tony was immune from the law. That’s why they were going to such extreme measures to get out of his grasp, because there was no other way to stop him. There was no way Tony had stopped following him, had stopped watching him. He was simply doing it at a distance now.

For some reason.

Peter really didn’t want to think about what that reason was.

A bone deep chill ran down his spine as he buzzed himself into the apartment and started up the stairs. He kept his phone in his hand, still hoping it would vibrate with a text message any second now. It was almost 5 o’clock, why hadn’t she answered his texts for 5 whole hours?

All three locks were done up on the door when he arrived at his apartment, which eased his tension somewhat. Penny was either still out and about for whatever reason, or she was safely tucked away in the apartment. Maybe she’d laid down to take a nap and not set an alarm— her schedule was so irregular she could sleep for hours and hours whenever the opportunity arose.

Another reassurance came when he saw her purse and keys sitting on the table just inside the doorway. She was home safe, her phone was probably just in her purse and she’d forgotten about it. It would bother him if she just hadn’t answered, but at least she’d be okay.

“Pen?” He called out, dropping his backpack onto the floor under the table and quickly digging into her purse, “are you awake?”

No phone in her purse, Peter sucked his lip into his mouth and worried it with his teeth. She must’ve fallen asleep on the couch and her phone was on the floor charging. He stepped swiftly down the hall and into the living room, crossing the hardwood floor quickly and peered over the back of the couch. Panic began to shoot through him when she wasn’t there. She might’ve been in the bathroom, maybe, or she could’ve laid down in his bed to rest instead—

“You lied to me, baby.”

Icy terror dripped down Peter’s spine, every hair on his body rising in unison. He wasn’t sure if it was the statement itself, or the tone, or the implication. Half a dozen apologies stuck to the roof of his mouth, spicy like cinnamon. Suddenly, a single thought began to race through his brain on repeat: Where is Penny?

“You told me you lived alone, off of an inheritance. Made me think you were all alone. Did you want me to think you were vulnerable, Peter? Did you think it would make keeping my attention easier? Because if you just wanted more attention, you should’ve told me baby boy,” the swish of fabric betrayed Stark’s otherwise silent movements as he shifted around in the kitchen, directly behind Peter.

“I… I told you I moved here after my aunt died, with money from family.”

“Do you really want to argue lies of omission with me, baby? I’m really good at arguing,” he was much closer now, Peter could almost feel the taller man’s body heat against his back.

“M-Mr. Stark, where is—”

“Penelope?” Stark cut him off before he could even ask, sending another nauseating spike of terror through his entire body, “does she prefer Penny or is that just what everyone calls her? She seems pretty averse to sweetheart.”

“Where—”

“She asks a lot of questions too, Petey,” his arms wrapped around Peter’s torso and pulled him back against his chest, carefully running his palm over the teenager’s sternum, “like ‘how did you get into my apartment?’ and ‘why won’t you leave my brother alone?’ That last one threw me for sure, baby. She was so scared but would hardly say anything but ‘please leave him alone’ half the time.”

“What did you do with her?” He could barely breathe, there was ice in his lungs, was he having an asthma attack?

“Nothing you need to worry about, baby boy. Why don’t you explain why you didn’t tell me about Penelope Parker, big sister extraordinaire?”

“P-please, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, j-just tell me she’s okay first,” tears were welling in Peter’s eyes, threatening to spill out at any second accompanied by loud sobbing.

“It’s cute you think you’re in a position to negotiate, precious. You’ve already earned yourself a punishment for lying, are you going to dig this hole deeper by being naughty? Answer me, now.”

Fuck, fuck he’d alluded to punishments and rules before but it had never seemed real. It all seemed like a bad dream most of the time, something that gave him nightmares but hadn’t actually happened. Wouldn’t ever lead to anything happening.

“I didn’t want to you know about her,” he whispered after a moment.

“Why Peter?”

Another hesitation, swiftly brought to an end by Tony’s teeth near his ear, “a-at first because she’d just… she’d just been hurt really bad and I didn’t want anyone near her. But later—later it was because I didn’t want you to have any leverage over me. Any more than you al.. already did.”

“Leverage, huh?” The man hummed quietly, both still very close to Peter’s ear, “You think I would’ve, what? Threatened to hurt her if you didn’t do what I said, threatened to kill her if you told?”

Peter nodded, a few tears escaping over his lash line to run down his cheeks. He’d been right too, Tony had taken advantage of Penny’s existence to hurt him. Where ever Penny was, she was there because of Peter. Whether she was hurt or scared or please not dead it was Peter’s fault because Tony Stark should’ve never been in their lives to begin with.

“Well naughty boy, you’ve earned yourself at least one and a half punishments, by my calculations. Silly thing, thinking I would hurt the person who took such good care of you for me. Now it’s my turn to take care of you, baby boy.”

“Please, where is she?” Peter sobbed, curling over the arm around his waist slightly, “is she okay?”

“Penny hit her head pretty hard, so she’s getting a CT scan right now and some medicine to help her sleep it off,” Tony’s unused hand began carding through Peter’s hair, tickling the back of his neck carefully, “You can see her sometime tomorrow, if she’s up for visitors. Cap might get over protective, we’ll have to wait and see.”

“W-Who is Cap, why can’t I see her now—”

“Uh, uh, uh, baby,” long fingers suddenly grew uncomfortably tight against Peter’s scalp, pulling his head back in one slow drag, “no more questions from you. It’s time for your punishments, and the only words I better hear from you are ‘thank you, sir’.”

[greekowl87]

Angst 5 and/or 10 I’m craving some angst

“I can't believe you did this, how could you?” / “This, us, was a fucking mistake and I should have known the second things went further than planned.”

A/N: I love me some good, old-fashioned angsts. Diana fueled angsts are my bread and butter so I thought I would try my hand at it. Again. So set around ‘Two Sons.’ I suck at smut so sorry if it sounds dumb :( And I apologize for it sound rushed. No beta. I just wanted to get this idea out while it was in my head. @today-in-fic @suitablyaggrieved @improlificinsarcasm @baronessblixen

On the bottom of the world in winter sunlight, Mulder gambled and won the thousand to one odds. He had found Scully in the maze of an alien ship, given her the vaccine, and somehow, they still escaped with their lives. Except, when they arrived back in D.C., they still didn’t have their old office back. The events in Dallas resulted in them being relegated to the bullpen where they were stuck doing background checks.

Mulder was certain, that despite the dire situation, Scully would have been transferred to Quantico either by the higher-ups or of her own accord. But each day he dragged himself to the office, she was sitting right behind him in the bullpen performing endless background checks. And things remained glacial between them; cold and frigid and unlikely to change anytime soon.

But he sensed it; they both did. They wanted to change. Whatever was left unspoken in the hallway of his Alexandria apartment before that blasted bee ruined everything hung in the air between them. You don’t go around professing that the person is their one and five billion without meaning it. But the tension between was palpable.

This Monday was no different.

Scully was already at her desk that morning when Mulder came in. He smiled and offered her a paper bag proudly. “What is that?” She arched her eyebrow. “A peace offering?”

“Breakfast. I stopped by the bakery you like so much in Old Town and picked it up on my way in.”

She took it cautiously. “What do you want?”

“What makes you say that?”

“No catch.” 

She took the offered pastry wearily. “Thank you, Mulder.”

“I actually wanted to see if you wanted to come over tonight,” he said slowly.

“Why?”

Mulder sat in his chair and choose his next words carefully. “No reason. Maybe watch a movie, enjoy a six-pack of Shiner Bock…discuss what I told you in the hallway.” He looked down at his hands. “I want there to be an us,” he finished.

“Mulder, not here,” she whispered sharply. She averted her gaze to focus on her computer.

“Scully, come on. We both can’t dance around what happened.”

Mulder watched her body language as she sighed and barely nodded. “Tonight. Seven. I’ll be there.”

He recognized the need for her control; if she at least came to his place, she could also choose to escape back to her Georgetown apartment if she wanted. He would take it. “Sounds great. I could order takeout? Italian?”

“Just pizza, Mulder,” she whispered. “Pizza and beer.”

He smiled and turned his chair around. Victory.

*****

The morning progressed agonizingly. Neither Mulder nor Scully was able to break away from the phone and the endless background checks. By eleven Mulder wrote, ‘I’m going to get something from the vending machine. Want your usual?,’ on a post-it note. Scully nodded shortly and mouthed ‘Thank you.’ “No, ma’am. I would never insinuate that. It’s a regular question,” she said softly.

Mulder smiled. A trained medical doctor who could easily leave the FBI and pursue a career in medicine choose to stay and with him no less. She really was his one and five billion. He got up and padded his back pocket for his wallet. Scully slammed the phone down angrily. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t remember my own background checks being so nasty,” she told him. “The woman basically called me a bitch and hung up on me!”

“Well, forget about it. Do you want a Butterfinger instead of the M&Ms?”

“No. I get that stuck in my teeth. Milky Way?”

“You got it,” he laughed. “Be back.”

“Thank you, Mulder.”

He was truly blessed with her. As he made his way to the vending machine, debating what to get for himself, a soft voice called, “Fox!”

He stopped dead in his tracks. No one called him that except one: Diana. He turned and gave a feeble smile. “Hi, Diana.”

“What are doing down here?”

Mulder awkwardly gestured to the vending machine. “Grabbing something to eat for Scully and me. Doing those background checks is hard work.”

Something changed in her demeanor. Diana stood taller, straightening her back so that her chest (and breasts) jutted out slightly. Mulder took a step back automatically, unused to someone else sharing his space beside Scully. “Well, if you are free today, I was wondering if you wanted to catch up over your lunch break down in the cafeteria today?”

Mulder was quiet for a second briefly thinking about Scully. He wasn’t stupid; he knew there was some tension between his partner and ex-wife. But Diana could be trusted. She had been there at the beginning. He understood that. Scully’s suspicion was in the wrong place. “Um, give me fifteen minutes and I’ll meet you there.”

Diana smiled and squeezed his arm affectionately. “See you in fifteen.”

Mulder quickly got his wallet and bought Scully’s candy bar. He walked back to his desk and deposited the candy bar on her desk and grabbed his jacket. She arched an eyebrow in surprise and put her hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. “Where are you going?”

“Ran into an old friend that is only here for a day. Gonna have lunch with them.” One little white lie couldn’t hurt. “I’ll be back at one. Don’t worry, we’re still on for tonight.”

“Mushrooms and green peppers?”

“And pineapple for me.”

She wrinkled her nose with a smile. “Have fun.”

God, Scully could torture him with her little quirks.

*****

Despite the Milky Way Mulder had gifted her at 11 that morning, by noon, Scully’s stomach was grumbling. She eyed the clock as the bigger hand hovered at 12:02. She was entitled to her lunch break and didn’t have to worry about it since she no longer worked out in the field. Scully typed a few quick things out before she grabbed her card and headed down to the Hoover’s employee cafeteria. 

Her stomach continued to grumble and turn as she took the elevator to the first floor. Scully decided against her yogurt and bee pollen and wondered what healthy options she had. She checked the menu and decided on a Cobb salad before she proceeded into the line to get her lunch. Her mind was fluttering around the meeting with Mulder that evening. Were they going to finish that conversation? Her blood rushed with excitement.

As Scully went through the motions to purchase her Cobb salad, she clenched her lunch tray when she saw Mulder laughing with Diana.

Diana.

Scully prided herself in not trying to cast judgment, blame her Catholic upbringing. But she couldn’t help it. It was something about Diana that crawled under her skin. Then she saw Mulder laughing, grasping her hand as she leaned against his shoulder laughing too. Then there was the hand holding. What did it for her was the chaste kiss on the cheek that Diana did and Mulder didn’t stop it. Her blood crawled, growing icey. Suddenly, Scully’s appetite was lost and she dumped the contents of her lost lunch in the trash can wastefully. Scully wondered if she was dumping her lunch or her baggage regarding her potential relationship with Mulder.

*****

Mulder smiled at Scully as he came back from lunch. “Hey, Scully,” he greeted.

“Mulder.”

It was the change in her tone that caught him off guard. “Everything okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“Sure?”

“Peachy, Mulder.” She looked up from her work. “I can’t make it tonight. My mom called. I’ll be in Bethesda tonight.”

Mulder did a double-take. “What about our plans?”

Scully didn’t look at him as she replied, “Maybe next time.”

Mulder sat down at his desk. What had gotten into her? “What about our plans?”

“I can’t tonight, Mulder. Maybe next time.”

Mulder frowned as she avoided him completely for the rest of the at.

*****

Scully’s apartment was her refuge. It was her domicile, her kingdom; it was all in her control. As soon as five o’clock hit, Scully quickly left and took the Metro back home to her apartment leaving a puzzled Mulder behind. As soon as she locked her door that evening, she dropped her briefcase by the door, kicked off her heels, and immediately went to their bedroom, changed into black leggings and an FBI gray sweatshirt and collapsed on her overstuffed couch and flipped it to HGTV. Let her be dissolved in fixing and flipping houses rather than fixing her relationship with Mulder.

*****

Mulder knew she took the Metro that day but instead of going straight home, he sat in his car, watching her apartment building before the light in her living room turned on. He downed a miniature he had gotten at a Virginia ABC store. Liquid courage. He took a deep breath, locked his car, and marched to her apartment door.

She pulled it open before he could knock.

“I saw your car,” she answered. She stood aside so he could enter. “What is it that you want?”

“I thought we had a date tonight.”

“We had no date,” she answered cooly.

Mulder scoffed accusingly. “I can’t believe you did this, how could you?”

“What on Earth are you talking about?”

She went to her fridge and dug out a bottle of white wine.

“So my mere presence drives you to drink?” He snapped.

“You’re being selfish. No. What I saw at lunch did it for me.”

Oh, Scully was ready to scorch and burn everything between them. “Lunch?”

“Diana.” She cast her typical questioning left eyebrow before pouring her own glass. “Want some?”

“Sure you won’t burn it?”

“Quit being an asshole.”

She pulled down a second glass and poured some wine into it as well. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

Mulder took the full glass wearily as sipped the pinot grigio. “You aren’t helping.”

“I’m mad.” She gestured between the glasses. “This doesn’t help but at this point, I’m sick of your shit and backtracking.”

“What the fuck, Scully,” he asked.

Mulder was still standing in the doorway with a glass of wine. He groaned and set it aside. He stormed toward her couch as she sat down and crossed her legs. Scully murmured, “What the fuck indeed.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She sighed and pinched her brow. “This, us, was a fucking mistake and I should have known the second things went further than planned.”

“What further things?”

“Beer? Talking? The hallway?”

“You aren’t making sense.”

Scully stared at him, narrowed her eyes and huffed. “You fucking kissed her, Mulder. Don’t give me bullshit lines that I’m your one and five billion when you’re off kissing other women.” She set down the glass of wine on the table with a thud. “If you want there to be an us, Mulder then come clean with me.” She stood up. Even without her heels, she was a giant. “I will fight for us but I won’t do it unless you’re all in too.”

Mulder eyed the glass of wine enticingly. “Diana is my ex-wife.”

“She’s your what?”

Fuck it. He downed the wine in one gulp. It numbed him briefly against Scully’s verbal assault.

“And you didn’t think that was important to mention?”

“Scully…”

She was on her feet now, pacing like a shark. “Don’t.   Mulder, I’m pissed. You’re dragging me along for months, pretending that I’m the only thing that matters and then boom, out to lunch with your ex.”

Mulder found himself floundering, stuck in the moment. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to be honest with me, Mulder. What happened to trust no one???”

“I trust you,” he defended.

“Trusted. Past tense,” she shouted. 

Mulder was stunned. “Scully…”

“There is no us!” She continued. “You know I don’t trust her. I don’t like her but go around strutting with her.”

“Scully, she’s my ex-wife. She was there when I got the x-files.”

“And I was just assigned.” She scoffed. “I get it, Mulder. Loud and clear. You can leave.”

“I’m not leaving, Scully.”

“Mulder, leave. Please.”

“I’m not.” In frustration, Mulder stormed across her living room and grabbed her. He tried to use all his expertise to put his feeling into his body language. A kiss. They were both breathless. “I’m not leaving, Scully. There’s you and you only.”

Scully was dumbstruck. The power of their kiss paralyzed her. “How can I believe you?”

What followed was a hurricane of clothes being removed and six years of tensions being resolved. On her overstuffed couch with all the lights on, in Georgetown, of all places, The tv was playing something that seemed irrelevant to what had just perspired. Mulder coiled around her bare body and pulled her afghan closer. “I got to admit.” He kissed the back of her ear soothingly. “Your couch might be more comfortable than mine.”

“Hmm…” she hummed.

From literally tearing out their throats to post-coitus, neither could complain. “You know, I meant what I said in that hallway, Scully.”

She turned to face him and gripped him tightly. He felt himself tighten with pleasure (or was it fear?). “Say it.”

“Diana is the past. We’re the future.”

“Again.”

“Diana is the past. We’re the future.”

After a moment, Scully released him. He nuzzled her hair. “Satisfied?”

“I will be once we go to bed. I hate sleeping on this couch.”

“Even with the company?”

“The bed is better with the company.”

“Where does this leave us?”

“To be determined?”

“Better than a no.”

For the moment, all anger was forgotten and they could move forward, even if for a moment into her bedroom. And of course, the pizza was forgotten.

[ahiddenpath]

hi, new follower here!! i hope you'll get better soon :"D mind if i ask your headcanon about what the digidestined will do under the lockdown? thanks!

Hi there, thank you for following me!  I’m alright, I just have GAD and am struggling with it right now.  I imagine I’m in good company now, though, what with the pandemic...  Which is an appropriate segue into your ask!

I’m sure there are folks who don’t wanna hear about lockdown and pandemics, so I will throw this one beneath the cut :D  I will assume that the kids are their 2020 ages (ie, Koushiro was born in 1989 ish, so he’s about 31), and I will try not to be depressing.  I’ll also assume the digimon are currently in the Digital World, just for my sanity.  I’m also assuming the Chosen are okay economically, and that the lockdown is enforced (ie, none of them are allowed  to report to work or go out, with few exceptions).

Thanks for the ask <3

Taichi

Chilling out at home, reading manga, watching TV, and being lazy is fun... for a few days.  Very soon, Taichi is pacing his apartment, doing at-home workouts, and wishing his cooking was better.  He can only eat so many omelettes!!!  

The social isolation hits hard at some point, even though he Facetimes people.  And even though he finds ways to move in his apartment, staring at the same four walls is rough for someone who prefers stimulation.  He temporarily moves back in with his parents or with a friend at the first opportunity!

Probably gets pretty buff during lockdown.  He loses his tan, and his hair grows back to its incredible childhood proportions, which makes his friends and family laugh!  

Yamato

Does a lot of cooking/baking, and takes the opportunity to study and work out.  Being an astronaut requires top mental and physical condition!  He’s pretty used to being isolated to a degree, because...  Again, astronaut.

He’s worried about his loved ones, especially Takeru and his dad.  When he can, he temporarily moves in with one (or both?).  He says it’s “to take care of them,” since they’re so “hopeless,” but he’s full of shit.  He’s lonely and worried.

If he’s in space, then he’s even more frantic, due to the distance from his loved ones.  The astronauts frequently look at earth and wonder what the hell is happening down there.

If he’s with Sora at this point, then he fares better for her companionship and reassurances.

Sora

She checks in with her friends and family over Facetime.  They think she’s worried about them, and they’re not wrong...  But doing something for the people she loves helps Sora find purpose and connection in difficult times.  She experiences worry for the world and her friends, so she tries to keep busy.

Sora has a lot of hobbies, so she spends the time working on outfit designs and sewing.  She finally makes a dent in her fabric supplies!  Still, she’s an active person, and she starts to feel pent-up before long, even though she’s exercising.  When she’s not sewing or talking to friends, she cleans and escapes into online art galleries.

If she’s with Yamato at this point, she probably fares better.  If not, I imagine she might temporarily stay with a friend when she can.

Koushiro

What lockdown?    

Just kidding!  Still, Koushiro feels a little guilty because...  He’s enjoying working from home instead of reporting to the office, and his work productivity has skyrocketed.  He’s not particularly lonely, since he can use Facetime, and he doesn’t feel pent-up at home.  

But he soon finds that he relies on the routine of reporting to work and moving through the day more than he realized.  During lock down, it’s easy for him to forget to eat, bathe, sleep, and take breaks without his routine!  He also lost a lot of his food options, and he can’t cook...  

Luckily, Taichi often calls in the evenings to play online games.

He temporarily moves in with his parents ASAP.  

Mimi

THIS IS THE WORRRRSSSSTTTTTT!  Mimi can’t deal with lockdown.  Hopefully, she was able to move in with friends or a romantic interest for a bit beforehand.  If not, I think she might actually pop.  And even with friends, she’ll crave stimulation.

She tries to spend the time thinking of new recipes, but her ingredients are limited...  Which means that she digs deep into the supplies that have sat, unused, for a while...

She probably has a lot of board game nights and virtual dinner parties with her friends.

Jyou

If he’s a human doctor at this point, then he’s an essential employee.  He’s working himself to the bone to help people.  He won’t allow anyone to live with him for now, because of the risk of exposing them.  He’s on top of covid-19 research and news, and how little is known about the virus and the changing information terrifies him.

His friends start ordering food to be delivered to him, fearing that he isn’t taking care of himself.  He mostly sleeps when he’s at home, since he spends so long working so hard.  I hope other people will support him, because Jyou will set himself on fire to help others.

Takeru

Uses humor to cope, but on the inside, he’s afraid.  Calls his family and friends a lot, and tries to be nonchalant...  But they know he’s scared and wanting to check in.

Takeru reads and writes constantly during lockdown, and watches shows and movies that he’s always meant to watch.  He usually takes walks for inspiration, and the lack of visual stimulation/change of scenery is rough on him.  He’s also pretty social, so lockdown is rough on him.  He probably takes up a random hobby to cope, something really weird, like ventriloquism.  Is he doing this to mess with people, or because he’s losing it?  Who knows!  

Blogs about everything.  Everything.  Prank calls his friends, and pretends that they’re buying it when they clearly are not.

Probably comes crying to live with Onii-chan for a bit ASAP.

Hikari

Hikari keeps herself occupied well, but she’s worried about her friends and family, and she gets lonely.  She calls everyone often, especially Miyako when she’s feeling really down.

Hikari holds online learning sessions for her kiddos, both group and individual.  It’s a ton of work, but she’s glad to see her students and have even this much normalcy.  She probably couldn’t cope without it.

She does a photography light study during lockdown, and probably adopts a cat, if she doesn’t have one already.

Daisuke

Spontaneously combusts by day four.  I’m kidding!  Mostly!

I’m not sure if restaurants operate during a lockdown, but ramen isn’t a good delivery option, I’d imagine?  Well, if he can work, at least he can get out and do that.  If not, he spends most of lockdown experimenting with food and drinks, and researching for his business.  He joins Taichi for work outs- they follow the same videos together.  Constantly calling his friends, especially Ken and Miyako.  Probably drinks more than he should.  Watches lots of movies and TV, plays video games.

So like...  You know, he keeps busy as best he can, but Daisuke is an active, social man.  It’s rough on him!

Miyako

I imagine she has kids by now...  She probably throws herself into keeping them busy and entertained.  The good news is that she has Ken and at least one kid at this point, so she’s not alone.

Being pent-up is hard for her, so she tries to put together novel experiences for herself and her family: crafts, games, cooking challenges, forts, and competitive cleaning.  Even though they’re inside all day, everyone is pooped by the end of the day!

She winds down in the evening by talking to Hikari or Ken with a drink.

Iori

He’s grateful to live with his mother and grandfather at this time.  I don’t know if he’d still be able to do lawyer work- maybe he can study cases that are on hold?  Would he be a lawyer at this point?

Iori has a steady, grounded personality, so I think he’d fare alright.  He would practice kendo, maybe participate in online training, and spend time with his aging grandfather.  Maybe he’d take the opportunity to record his grandfather on camera, asking him questions about his life.

Iori would probably check in on people intermittently, but I think his primary focus will be on his family at this time.  

Ken

Hmm, this is hard...  I imagine police are essential, but is Ken more of a... detective?  I’m not sure if he’d be working or not?

If he is, well, he’d be busy with that.  If not, I’m sure there’s a lot to do at home, with young children.  The good news is that he isn’t lonely, unless he has to live elsewhere in the event that he’s working and doesn’t want to potentially expose his young family.

Basically, this one depends on circumstances.  I could see Ken doing alright, or doing really... not alright if he’s separated from his family.

[konako]

wasted potential sounds like an amazing Ruby Lucas rant 😏 just give me some red content I miss her sm

LETS GO

It’s like THEY VERY WELL KNEW THAT RUBY WOULD SOLVE A TON OF PROBLEMS IF USED CORRECTLY, so they chose to conveniently forget about her, so they could be forced to come up with ridiculous alternatives for the plot!!

Ruby as a Detective Deputy? 

Brilliant. Even dormant, her wolf was there, in her senses, in her temper, in her speed, in her energy. She found a heart buried inside a chest near a river – by smell alone. She didn’t know it, but she smelt it. She found David in the woods – by listening to his breathing. Again, without even knowing it. Her partying persona was her wolf energy going unused. Her desire for adventure was her wolf longing to run free. She was a werewolf still, she had just forgotten about it. 

Now imagine THIS IN LAW ENFORCEMENT:Foot pursuit? Pfft. Please. In a few feet, she caught the guy. Folks in this town are so slow, doctors should look into that.Tackling big broad men? Surprisingly easy. They just drop like empty bags. Iron deficiency in mass, perhaps…Hand to hand combat? Who knew flipping over your head could be so effortless? There is training for that? Uh?Searching for clues? People have a problem with that? Why don’t they just follow the very strong, very noticeable scent to the hidden murder weapon that is practically drenched in the culprit’s smell? Duh!

They couldn’t have that advantage, or the plot would have very little actual obstacles, so……… RUBY? WHO’S THAT?

Red being properly utilized in the War against The Evil Queen?

Yeah, we got a few glimpses of what she could do, and what she did do in that era, but they couldn’t use her too much, or the conflict would… not be?

So, okay, she can turn and kill armies very easily, check. She can search and spy and survey, check. She can sneak up inside Regina’s castle and kill her men– but let’s not have too much of that. Let’s not have Regina acknowledge that foe, or we would have to, I don’t know, have the Evil Queen envying Snow White’s wolf companion. (REAL WOLF COMPANION, not that imitation of a wolf she has with the Huntsman, just pretending to be the real thing and disappointing her kink passion) Yet another thing Snow White has that the Evil Queen only wished she could have. A real wolf, by her side, helping her, fighting for her. 

Plus, having The Evil Queen realize Red’s potential against her could lead to Regina finding another beast to rival the werewolf, so she could be matched and even out the fight again. She could find another werewolf, from the pack Red broke apart?? She could find an ogre, the yaoguai, a werewolf hunter, a warrior in need of some work (maybe named mulan, idk). She could find herself a worthy sidekick to bear some of the brunt of Red’s attacks, so she could focus on Snow properly. But that would mean they would have to upgrade Red from a side character to an actual player with motivations, fears, enemies of her own. Too much work! Let’s have Jekyll and Hyde there for no reason at all maybe.

Ruby being in control of her powers and using them with full intent to save the day?

Again, experimented with, in the Frankenstein episode in season two. But, oooooh, fuck, we can’t have that! Shit, that stupid plot twist of Whale running from the hospital lasted for like 5 seconds, was solved in 2 and had NO real impact in the bigger story – IF RUBY SOLVES ALL OF OUR SHALLOW INCONSEQUENTIAL PROBLEMS, what damp piece of toilet paper will we call a script? A plot??? We can’t have that. 

We need our fairytale errands to take an epic proportion, waste 70% of our run time and pretend to be a bigger problem than they are, so we can have what the kids are calling… what was it? oh, Drama! Yes!

If we misplace this Macguffin in the town and have a werewolf sniff it out in an hour, WHAT STORY WILL WE TELL? A REAL ONE? No, hear me out: Regina has gone missing, so we have to have Snow squirting this weird ass oracle juice in her eye to see through Regina’s eyes to find her – and she should go to outrageous lengths to find this all-seeing spit– THAT’S PLOT. We have it. Found it. Amazing plot. – What do you mean, her very best friend is a werewolf with incredible senses that by this point has Regina’s scent engraved in her mind (because of the hate sex in the previous season, but we won’t get into that)?? NO! ORACLE JUICE! MAGIC SQUIRT! NO WOLF. 

Oh man, it sure is hard to have this character… Supernatural senses, speed, strength, stamina… that neutralizes like… 80% of our everyday obstacles. Maybe we should go for the emotional, interpersonal conflicts. That will guarantee she won’t be able to solve it, right? Right…..?

Ruby as the emotional support friend, the loyal companion, the charitable

Shit. Oh SHIT! 

Snow killed Regina’s mother on impulse and is now in a deep depression over the consequences, both to Regina and to her soul. She’s struggling with the taking of a life, with the blood on her hands, with the sacrifices she’s had to made to defeat the greater evil?

What do you mean, Ruby lived through all of that and could offer her precious council, comfort, company? Ah, fuck. Does that mean we have to acknowledge Ruby’s story as well? Do you mean we have to have her as an actual character, as she helps Snow through this tough time, and they share their fears and explore their dynamic, as they finally switch roles and now Snow is the one drowning in guilt and Ruby is the one grounded? F u c k.

Regina and Red have eerily similar stories? Killed mother without meaning to, death of first boyfriend in their arms being the turning for from her previous life, a hint of darkness always swirling in their hearts and minds, a concerning ease in causing harm, an inner conflict fueled by an unsatisfied desire for freedom and the shackles of other’s expectations? And the critical difference that ultimately led them to opposite paths: a loving and accepting friend/family. Red and Regina as equals in origin, but opposite extremes in the present? Whoa, that’s too heavy. That’s some deep shit right there. That could make a serious storyline, a solid relationship of frenemies, to friends, to………………….. lovers?  

That’s too dangerous. We can’t have people thinking OUAT is for philosophical shit!! What’s that, a sociological take on my evil vs. good story?? Complex character dynamics and layered personalities interacting in the full scope of a human relationship???? GET OUT OF HERE WITH THIS GAY SHIT. GIVE ME A MUSICAL EPISODE INSTEAD.

Ruby is a powerhouse of a character, it’s decided. She threatens our easy (while mind-numbingly convoluted) narrative. Let’s leave her by the road, like a proper unwanted dog.

Let’s her take a mysterious trip to FTL and blame it on Storybrooke’s overwhelming heterosexual demographic and her raging bisexuality her being the only werewolf in town, despite every other stupid type of creature populating every square inch of this hell. And not feeling comfortable there. Okay. That’ll do.

People won’t ask too many questions. Who care about Ruby anyway???

Phew. Solved it.

Bullet: dodged!

Pats on the back. Good management, good writing, good everything, OUAT. We did it. We did a writing. We write good. Where is our Emmy.

*sigh*.

just….. *sigh*.

[anon-but-for-mcyt]

Todoroki x Fairy quirk reader

Quirk: Fairy- Has fairy wings that are always out and can use these to fly. It can shrink down to just a couple inches tall increasing speed and agility, can collect dust in the air and turn it into “fairy dust” this can help heal minor injuries. Drawbacks include changing size too much and getting stuck in one form for a while and overuse of wings gives bad back pains.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”, He seemed to gaze deep into my eyes searching my soul for any hesitation in my answer.

With a firm nod of my head I instantaneously responded, “Of course I’m sure”, my answer seemed to have pacified him enough as the tenseness in his shoulders seemed to dissipate as I spoke. “Hey I promise the mission is going to go fine, you have nothing to worry about”. Sitting on this couch with him I could feel both the warmth and coldness coming from his hands as he gently traced the base of my wings. He just hummed in acknowledgment, letting his hands fall back to his side as I started standing.

“I have to get going now,” I sighed out as I stood to my fullest height and started fluttering my wings to get them fully stretched out. 

“Just, try and stay safe”, He popped out of his seat as he was saying this grabbing hold onto my hands as he did. The sudden mix of both warmth and cold on my skin had my wings still in their movement. 

I gave him a swift peck on his lips before leaning into him more, “I always am” and with that, I released my grasp on him and bounded out the door of our office with a slight pep in my walk. My wings practically kept me off the ground as I made my way through the halls of the large building and made my ascent to the roof of the agency building. Once at my destination I felt myself smile calmly as I could see the sun quickly descend in the distance. I quickly started running towards the edge of the roof before pushing off with one faithful leap. 

I felt air rush past me for only a moment before my wings started to repeatedly flap to keep my body afloat. As soon as I was stable in the air I compressed my form into one much smaller than mine and soon felt the familiar shift in my body as I shrunk down. Once I reached only a few inches in height I smiled to myself and started to speed off towards the location given before quickly backpedaling. With practiced ease I made my way back towards the office I was not too long ago standing in. 

Flying up to the long window I was so accustomed to, I quickly approached it and gave a gentle tap on it knowing Shoto was waiting nearby. As soon as my hand had knocked his head was turning towards me with one of his rare smiles. Knowing all of his attention was on me I brought my hands together to form a heart and held it high above my head for him to see giving him a blinding smile. I could see the crinkle in his eyes as he chuckled at my antics forming the same heart with his hands with a shake of his head.

With a final blow of a kiss, I was now actually on my way towards the location of a villain's lair in which I was to infiltrate. My small form made it so that I should easily be able to obtain information my agency needed to be able to take down this villain gang with ease. 

I could feel my wings start to strain as I continued to fly until I reached the building in question. Once I arrived I did a quick fly-by of the building hoping to find any open windows I could potentially fly in through with no such luck. Dejected by the news I perched myself in the branch of a tree nearby, waiting, watching to see if anyone would enter or exit through the front entrance. As the night grew darker and my patience grew thinner, a burly man dressed in all black flanked in between two shorter looking figures made their way up to the entrance. I made my way to the tip of the branch and as soon as their card scanned successfully, noted by the beep of the metal door, I quickly flew over and followed them through the now open door.  

As soon as I was inside I flew up to the highest corner of the room, looking to see if anyone had spotted me. A quick glance of the room showed it to be empty except for the retreating figures of the people I had followed in here. Without any other options, I slowly started to trail after the bodies making sure to keep as much to the wall as possible. 

They soon reached a bigger room that seemed to be a lab of sorts gathered by all the trinkets spread throughout. As soon as I entered I ducked behind a flower pot sitting on one of the many desks in the room as I could hear another person in this room as we were approaching.

 The assumed leader of the three stepped up to talk to the lady dressed in a lab coat, “I assume you have what I’m here for?” He scowled as he talked to her.

 Even from my position I could see the lady's composure start to break a little as she started stammering, “I may be a li-little behind schedule but everything is still going as we planned”, as she was talking she turned towards the main computer and started to bring up files with what looked to be blueprints on them. 

Looking just as displeased as before he leaned in closer to her before grunting, “Come with me”.

With a steel of her nerves, she hung her head low as she followed him along with the other two out of the room. As soon as the door swung closed confirming their departure and I could no longer hear their footsteps I zipped out from behind the flower pot and allowed myself to grow back to full height.

Once everything was back in proportion I made my way over to the computer and smirked realizing she had left it open. Digging through my suit pocket I grabbed out an unused flash drive and stuck it into the computer copying all of the laid out blueprints onto it. As I was waiting for all the information to load I heard quick footsteps that sounded like they were headed back to the room. 

Wasting no time I shrunk back down and dived behind the computer using protruding wires to conceal myself with. The door swooshed open as the person presumably made their way into the room. Risking a quick glance confirmed that it was the same doctor from before who had reentered the room and I knew I was screwed as soon as I saw the flash drive still sticking out of the computer. 

I could hear the moment she spotted it without even looking as her heels clicked as she walked closer to my hiding spot and a small, “What the hell” left her mouth as she did.

Using the wire to hide the majority of my body I watched as she went to pull the flash drive out of the computer. With quick thinking, I swished my hand through the hair grabbing as much fairy dust as I could hold in my hand and flew up to the flash drive. I could feel her eyes land on me as soon as I touched down on top of the flash drive and with a quick smile, I blew the fairy dust directly into her eyes. With a high pitch shout, she stumbled back and started vigorously rubbing at her eyes.

 I was about to pull out the flash drive myself when my eyes caught on to the screen to see it hadn’t finished loading yet. With a small groan, I turned towards the doctor ready to stall for time and when I did I watched as needles slowly protruded from her fingertips. 

A lazy smirk rested on her face as she focused on me once again, “Now stay still for me alright?” as soon as the words left her mouth she dived at me fully intent on stabbing through my body with one of her needles. I zipped out of the way just in time and started flying circles around her, as I did so I grew back to normal and threw a punch at her face, hitting her in the cheek. Her head snapped back and in one fluid motion, she threw herself right back at me going to swipe with all the fury of her needles. Too shocked by her reaction to move I shrunk down once more to avoid being stabbed.

 I quickly rushed to the top of the room to get out of her reach and looked over towards the computer to see that everything had finished downloading though my attention on it only seemed to draw hers to it as well as we came to the same conclusion. I need to grab that flash drive! 

Using all of my speed I raced over to the tabletop and seeing her right behind me reaching for the drive in a split decision I grew back and quickly with my back facing the desk, grabbed onto the edges of the table with my hands and lifted myself pushing my feet onto her chest and kicking her back with all my force. Before doing so I felt one of her needles slice down my jaw and onto my neck. 

I heard her crash into the middle desk in the room as I once more shifted down in size and flew up to the flash drive resting my boots on the side of the computer and pulled in out with one big yank. As soon as I had it securely in my grip I started looking for an exit to the room and noticed an air vent at the top of the room. Not wasting a spare look I booked it directly into the vent ignoring the doctors exclaims to stop as I raced through the vents looking for an exit. 

After a while of searching through the vents, I found a port that had bits of light shining through it. Making my way over to it I set down the flash drive and with both my hands started prying the vent open. Eventually, I got it wide enough to where I could fit both myself and the flash drive though. As soon as I was free I was surprised to see the night sky had shifted into the sun, informing everyone of morning's arrival. 

With what little energy I had left I made my way back to the agency and as I flew I could feel the drain of using my wings for so long as I was slowed down by the pain in my back quite a bit. By the time I could see the agency in the distance the sun had fully risen and I felt myself sweat drop knowing I stayed out longer than originally planned. 

With one final spurt of energy, I forced my wings to flap harder as I made my way up top to the same long window before but this time It was pushed open allowing me free access to the room. The first thing I spotted upon entering was Shoto pacing the floor little sparks of flame trailing after him as he did so. 

“You're going to burn a literal hole in the floor if you keep up that pacing”, I cheerfully yelled at him. The minute he heard my voice his head snapped over to my direction and I smiled at him when we made eye contact. In a rush, he was next to me and I soon found myself gathered in his hands as he pressed me against his chest.

“You’re late”, I felt his voice vibrate through his chest as he talked and I couldn’t help but want to lean in closer to be fully surrounded by him and his protective warmth. 

I tilted my head back to look at him as I spoke, “I know I’m sorry, steak out took a little longer than expected”, Using all the strength I had left I strained my wings to fly myself out of his hands and up to his face. “But, I was successfully able to retrieve the information needed!” I proudly showed off the flash drive trying not to grimace as pain shot through my back as I was holding it out with both my hands. 

One of his hands reached out to gently grab the flash drive from mine while the other came up underneath me giving me a perch to land on. “Even so I can see you overused your wings again, you shouldn’t be flying right now”. The hand I was standing upon was brought closer to his face as I could feel his gaze searching my body, “Are you hurt anywhere?”

Reminded of the cut on my jaw I quickly looked down and let out a quick,” Nope.”

“Oh really?” Humming in agreement I didn't see as his pointer finger came up underneath my chin tenderly lifting my head up to make eye contact once more. 

I noticed the minute his eyes latched on to the cut as a soft exhale escaped him, “Shift back and we’ll get that taken care of”

I sheepishly smiled at him and grabbed on to the back of my neck with my now unoccupied hand, “Haha,, yeah about me shifting back,,, I’m kinda stuck like this until I get my energy back” I mumbled out. I could see the miffed look take over his face as my words truly sunk in. 

“Well you’re still bleeding and it needs to be taken care of,” as he was talking he started walking over to where we kept the emergency aid kit in the office. Setting his hand down on the shelf next to it giving me the chance to walk off of his hand and sit down on the edge of the desk. My feet swing through the air as I listen to him digging through the kit presumably looking for the smallest bandages in there.

Not having to wait long I heard the snap of the first aid kit lid as he pushed it back to its proper position and focused onto me. I stretched my hand out waiting for him to hand me the band-aid, “I can handle myself from here Sho”

Ignoring my comment he finished unwrapping the bandaid, “If I recall you promised you’d stay safe and since you failed to do that I get to bandage your cut”, his tone was both scolding but loving and I couldn’t argue with him on those terms. I tilted my head up to give him better access as he brought his hands down towards my face and lightly pressed the bandaid over the cut.  

“Can we get food after this Sho? I’d like to get back to regular size soon.” 

He seemed to think it over before deciding, “I don’t know, you’re just so cute like this,” and with that, I was once again scooped into his hands but this time I was brought up to his face as he started to gently kiss all over my body.

A giggle escaped me as he did, “Sho stop that tickles!” This only seemed to encourage him further as relentlessly kissed me.

After what seemed like forever he finally pulled away leaving me breathless in his hand,   “That’s for making me worry”, He smirked at me. 

After getting my breathing under control I stood back up and walked over to his face and gently bestowed a kiss upon his lips, “I love you Sho.”

“I love you too Y/N”

[tsarisfanfiction]

Ordeal (Tales From The Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Gen Warnings: None Characters: Law, Shachi

The atmosphere in the Polar Tang was tense, and Law hated it. Despite the overly cheery smiles of his crew – most of them, anyway – there was no hiding the way they were all looking over their shoulders as if they expected something bad to happen any moment.

The fear wasn't totally unfounded, either. As much as Law wanted to be an idealistic optimist, it was cold hard fact that right now he – they – couldn't trust Penguin. Refusing to keep him confined to the infirmary like some sort of prisoner, Law had let him wander the ship as he liked, under one condition. Penguin was not allowed to be by himself at any time. Some of the crew, particularly the newer ones, thought it was for his protection; after all, the Polar Tang was full of hazards for the unwary, and without his memories of her, Penguin was likely to fall afoul of them.

Law wished that was all it was. Penguin's safety was, of course, paramount; amnesia or not, he was part of Law's nakama no matter what the situation. Unfortunately, there was a less known fact about Penguin that many of the crew did not know.

Penguin hated pirates. Law had overheard him and Shachi talking more than once about the irony of it all and was well aware of their past experiences with pirates. While Penguin had forgotten even Shachi's existence, Law could see in his eyes, could hear in his voice, that he hadn't forgotten that. Thus, they had a pirate-hating man on a ship surrounded by people who would love nothing more than to trust him. If Penguin didn't regain at least some relevant memories soon, that was going to become a problem. Law knew full well that Penguin was scoping them out, looking for weaknesses to exploit. He'd allowed it in the hopes that if he learnt enough his memories would resurface, but if he was remembering anything he wasn't admitting it.

The fact that he couldn't do anything to help was frustrating. While he knew the basics of amnesia, and had seen the potential signs before Penguin even woke up, he didn't know anywhere near enough about the workings of the brain to even attempt to fix the damage. He wouldn't do anything he wasn't completely and utterly confident on when it came to his nakama, especially with the potential for irreversible damage. There was also Penguin's reaction to Law's attempt to examine him earlier, before discharging him from the infirmary.

Law had been called all sorts of names before, especially from people who didn't know how his abilities worked, but hearing the common "freak" from the mouth of Penguin – who had never, not even the first time he'd seen it, said the word with as much vehement disgust as he had then – had hurt badly. He could admit that it had unbalanced him enough that he'd ended up discharging Penguin only halfway through his usual procedure, unable to take those judging eyes any longer.

Holed up in the library, Law had torn through every book he had with any reference at all to head injuries and amnesia, only to be met with what he already knew. There was no hard and fast cure. Not even something so complex and difficult it would take a miracle – or the Ope Ope no Mi – to pull off. No, there was absolutely nothing Law could do as a doctor. All he could do was expose Penguin to his usual surroundings, wait, and hope.

Now, as he watched Penguin pick through his meal – his favourite meal, the cook had enthusiastically joined in on doing everything possible to jog his memory – Law identified a problem. There was, one person that had more familiarity with Penguin than anyone else, and therefore the greatest chance of success at coaxing his memories back. However, that same person hadn't been seen since Penguin had left the infirmary.

Finishing his plate, he left it in the sink with an apology to the cook and picked up the untouched plate of food. The cook waved him off with a tired grin.

"Make sure he eats it all," he said, and Law nodded, leaving the room with the plate held securely in both hands. He could feel the heavy weight of a gaze on his back, and didn't need to turn around to know it was Penguin, gathering more information and drawing more conclusions.

Despite everything, Shachi was still in the same bolt hole he always used when he wanted to escape. Law's haki picked up on him in his room, face down on his bunk, and he shuffled his grip on the plate until he had a hand free to knock on the closed door. There was no answer, and normally Law would have left him alone – not quite true, normally he'd go and fetch Penguin – but he couldn't do that this time.

"Shachi?" he called, knowing that the ginger was well aware it was him. "I'm coming in." There was no protest, so he pushed the door open, walking in to the dark room. "I brought your dinner," he said, when there was no response from the top bunk, and finally there was the sound of movement as the ginger shuffled around.

"Not hungry," he mumbled, but he came down anyway, gliding down the ladder. Law stayed where he was as there was the sound of something being picked up, and then the light turned on. With his shades on, Shachi was sometimes difficult to read. The dried tear stains on his cheeks left Law in no doubt how he was feeling this time.

"You still need to eat," Law told him, nudging him to sit on the bottom bunk – well aware it was Penguin's and probably the last place Shachi wanted to be – and placing the plate on his lap before sitting next to him, ducking his head to avoid hitting it on the top bunk.

Shachi didn't say anything but he did pick at the meal, very similarly to the way Penguin had been picking at his own food. Law kept that observation to himself, choosing to sit in silence while Shachi ate. The silence reigned until he finished, setting the plate on the floor.

"How… is he?" Shachi asked, head bowed and looking at the floor. Law leaned on his elbows, but kept his eyes on the ginger.

"Physically fine," Law told him. "His injuries are healing well." Better than yours, he didn't say, even though the fresh bandaging on his side was clearly visible.

"But he still doesn't remember anything?" Shachi guessed, his voice thick. Law nodded. "You can't..?" He made a funny motion with one hand, clearly mimicking the way Law summoned his Room.

"There's nothing I can do," Law admitted. "It might be possible, but I don't know how and I won't risk damaging him permanently if I make a mistake." Shachi's sigh sounded resigned rather than disappointed; he'd already known the answer. "Shachi," he started, knowing what he needed to ask but faltering in the reality of the situation. His nakama made a noise that could either be intrigue or dismissal. Law chose to interpret it as intrigue. "Can you spend time with Penguin?"

Shachi's breath hitched, and his hands started to tremble where they were balled in his lap. Law ploughed on, knowing that Shachi was hurting more than any of them but also certain that out of all of them, he was the one with the best chance of helping Penguin remember.

"The best chance of recovering his memories is exposing him to things that should be familiar," he explained. "Out of everyone, you're the closest to him, so if there's any chance, it's you." He didn't want to put that pressure on Shachi, not when he was falling apart, but things couldn't continue like this. He – they – needed Penguin back.

Shachi said nothing for several minutes, the silence stretching over them, laden with heavy expectations. With the shades on, Law didn't know where Shachi was looking, if he was looking at anything at all or just staring into space. Looking forwards himself, towards the opposite wall, he saw sketches of what he presumed were their parents, alongside more familiar faces.

If Penguin saw those, would that trigger something?

"Okay," Shachi said suddenly, and Law's attention snapped back to him, his mind scrabbling to put the word into context. "I'll help him." Law blinked, startled, as the ginger got to his feet and retrieved the plate before giving a grin that was far too painfully fake.

"Shachi-" Law started, only for the ginger to turn away, opening the door.

"It's the only way we'll fix this before he does something stupid," he said. "If he tries to kill us, would we be able to stop him?"

Law had known that, had known Penguin was gathering information for that exact reason, but hearing Shachi say it was like a punch to the gut. He didn't ask how Shachi knew Penguin remembered he hated pirates, instead numbly watching his receding back as the ginger left the room to inflict constant emotional pain on himself in order to help Penguin.

Why did it have to be like that? Why did someone always have to hurt to help someone else? Why did Shachi have to be the sacrificial lamb? Why wasn't Law enough to take the burden?

Nudging the door shut with a Room and a Tact, Law curled up on the bed as the tears he'd been holding back ever since Penguin woke up amnesiac burst out. The bed was cold, unused for the last two nights while its owner was in the infirmary, but the unmistakable presence of Penguin still lingered and Law buried himself in it, wanting his nakama back and hating himself for being so useless.

[starblazerm31]

For the new 25 lore asks! ONE, THREE, & SIXTEEN for both!

Thank you so much for the ask!  ❤️

ONE| Will your OC and their LI ever have kids? If yes, describe their children! Looks, personality, what traits they draw from which parent or whether they would adopt.

w/Julian:  They have two kids: Nora and Rylen.  They are 22 months apart from each other.  Both of them have curly auburn hair like Julian, but they did inherit Azalea's premature greying.  So they enchant their hair like their mother. 

Nora (older)

Height:  6'

Pronouns:  She/Her

Hair:  very long; curly auburn that fades into blonde.  Hangs below her rear.  Usually tied back into a loose ponytail.

Eyes:  Royal Blue/Gold

Features:  Has her father's impressive nose.  Swimmer's build.  Medium skin, like Azalea.

She wears a brown vest with gold trim and brown capri pants.  She wears gold slip-on shoes.  She likes to get into scrapes like Julian, but she is acrobatic like Azalea, so she can squiggle out of those scrapes with remarkable ease.  She works at the local circus as a magician/acrobat.

Rylen (younger)

Height: 5'8"

Pronouns:  He/Him

Hair:  short; slightly longer than his father's, hanging just below his ears.  Curly auburn that fades into hunter green.

Eyes: Grey

Features:  smaller, round nose like Azalea.    Medium skin tone.

He is quiet and enjoys reading books.  He wears loose-fitting shirts with either a slate blue vest or a deep green coat.  He wears black pants and brown knee-high boots.  He is actually quite impressive with magic, but like Azalea, he doesn't say much about it.  He is training with his father to be a doctor.

w/Lucio:  They also have two kids:  Darien and Etoile.  They are two years apart.  They also inherit Azalea's greying hair, but they choose not to enchant it because they both like the blonde that fades into silver.

Darien (older)

Height:  5'9"

Pronouns:  He/Him

Hair:  short; blonde roots that fade into silver at the ends.  He lets it hang loose.  (Think Masquerade Lucio)

Eyes:  Royal Blue

Features:  spitting image of Lucio, but has medium skin like Azalea.  Wears glasses.

Darien is very humble like Azalea.   He is the type who will get lost in a good book and look up to realize that he's spent a whole day reading.  He also likes to play the drums.  He usually wears a white button-up shirt with a lavender vest.  The vest has various good-luck symbols stitched into the edges, and he wears a vervain boutonnière.  He sports leaf-green pants and knee-high brown boots.  He runs the magic shop when he is old enough, and acquires quite a few admirers who like to watch him mix potions through the shop windows.  "Have you seen that boy who runs the shop?!  He's so dreamy!!"  He doesn't let it go to his head, though.  He has eyes for only one girl...

Etoile (younger)

Height:  5'6"

Pronouns:  She/Her

Hair:  Long; blonde roots that fade into silver at the ends.  She usually has it swept back into a long braid.

Eyes:  Royal Blue

Features:  Etoile is a lovely mixture between Lucio and Azalea.  She's got Lucio's face shape, but Azalea's nose and mouth.

She is headstrong, loud, proud, and bulletproof like her father.  She can't stay cooped up in one place for very long.  She has to go out and explore.  She typically wears a white blouse covered with a black corset.  She also sports a long black coat with gold embroidery, black pants, and black high-heeled thigh-high boots.  She gets lots of attractive attention from others and relishes it.

She and Asra have three children:  Celestia, Velian, and Aries (adopted).

Celestia (oldest)

Height:  5'7"

Pronouns:  She/Her

Hair:  Long; curly and white like Asra with pink lowlights.  Typically wears it loose, but also pins the sides back with barrettes.

Eyes:  Red like Imalia

Features:  Asra's face shape and nose, but Imalia's strong eyebrows and thinner mouth.  Slight cleft in her chin.  Olive skin tone like Asra.

Celestia also goes by "Lessie" or "Tia."  Her facial features resemble Asra very strongly, but she has a strong jaw like Imalia.  She is lively and extroverted.  She is very open and honest, and very genuine.  However, she has her mother's temper and can go from a fairy princess to pale-haired demon in a heartbeat.  She likes to wear fashionable yet comfortable clothing.  She typically wears a pink long-sleeved blouse with a powder blue bodice.  She favors knee-length frilly skirts, usually in white or pale pink.  She wears black slip-on shoes, but will also go barefoot a lot.  She is the object of Darien/Rylen’s affections.

Velian (middle)

Height:  6'1"

Pronouns:  He/Him

Hair:  short and curly like Asra, but light brown like Imalia.  It stays messy, and that's how he likes it.

Eyes:  Lavender like Asra.

Features:  Velian is a big, broad guy.  He takes after Imalia's father as far as his body.  He has a strong jawline, high cheek bones, and a slightly upturned nose (like Imalia).  Olive skin tone like his father, but slightly lighter.

He is a mad magical scientist like his mother, but respects magic and what it can do, good and bad.  He loves to help Aisha and Salim with whatever they are working on at the moment and LOVES music.  He is a tinkerer and enjoys creating new and unique musical instruments.  He loves to create carnival-style musical instruments that require carts to be moved around.  (think Wintergatan's Marble Machine).  He also sports a lute that can double as a mace.

Aries (youngest; adopted)

Height:  5'4"

Pronouns:  They/Them

Hair:  Shoulder length; sleek black with white forelocks, usually tied into a low ponytail, or a wolf knot.

Eyes:  Vivid green

Features:  They have a long, slender face with shallow cheek-bones.  They have a hawk nose and very full lips.  Light skin tone.

Aries is dual-sexed; meaning all the parts.  They were a Vesuvian orphan, but it was clear that they weren't born in Vesuvia.  Imalia suspects that Aries has a more magical parentage, but it's very hard to tell exactly what (spoiler:  they are half-fae).  Aries is a child of nature and loves going on trips with their parents.  Aries typically wears a very loose tunic that is half black and half white.  They wear either black or brown pants with ankle-high brown shoes.  Etoile doesn’t want to admit it, but she is fascinated by Aries and wants to get much closer to them.

THREE| Does your apprentice have a close bond with one of the Major Arcana spirits? Which one? What about that Major Arcana drew your character to them or drew them to your character?

The Fool.  She was a well of endless possibility and potential.  She wasn't afraid to try new things, she had an innocent nature to her, and was quite creative in her magic use.  She was a beacon in the Magical Realms, and The Fool loved interacting with her.  When the deal was made to give her The Fool's body, The Fool actually agreed wholeheartedly.  All that beauty and innocence and talent needed to continue on.

The Empress.  Imalia's family has always been vehement about continuing their bloodline because the family has been full of exceptional magic users for hundreds of years.  Even though Imalia herself became quite annoyed and at times even resentful of this, there was always a part of her that desperately wanted to be a mother.  She loved the bond she had shared with her father.  She wanted that kind of bond with her own children.  She was already a rather maternal person since she got true joy and pleasure out of teaching others and nurturing their minds.  She rarely interacts with The Empress herself, but there are times she hears her voice.

 SIXTEEN| Where do your apprentice and their LI live? What is their home like? Big? Small? Who did the decorating? 

w/Julian:  They live in the magic shop until they have Nora.  Then they upgrade to a nicer two-story house across the canal in the Center City.  It's well-lit with plenty of windows and gauzy curtains.  There are three bedrooms (the already knew they were going to have another child), two bathrooms, a large kitchen, a living/sitting room, and two studies; one for Azalea and her magic, and one for Julian and his medicine.  There is also a playroom for Nora and Rylen, which eventually becomes Rylen's study.  On the second floor there is a small balcony that doubles as a herb garden.  Azalea did most of the decorating since Julian didn't have much taste as far as interior design.  There are light catchers hanging from most of the windows, colorful fabrics draped over most of the furniture, fairy lights in the bedrooms.

w/Lucio:  Lucio lived with Azalea in the shop for a short while until Nadia gifted them with a very nice estate near the Temple District.  Nadia knew Lucio's taste and was still very grateful to Azalea for taking him off of her hands in the first place.  The property is quite expansive with room for most of Lucio's pets, and a very nice house for the servants.  The main house itself is three stories with many guest rooms, studies, lavish bathrooms, and an impressive master bedroom.  The kitchen is open and well-lit, and Azalea will insist on helping the servants with meals.  The interior decorating is a happy mixture between Lucio's and Azalea's individual tastes.  Rich red curtains pulled open to allow in light with glittering light catchers, lots of gold trim on the furniture, and various vivid colors throughout the house.  Lucio has his own trophy room to display his hunting trophies, Azalea has a study to research and practice magic, and an entire room dedicated to wardrobe.  There is also a greenhouse for Azalea's magical herbs.  The main entry to the house has moonflower vines growing around the door.

Imalia and Asra live in her family estate, at the southernmost point of the Center City.  

It is three stories with a basement/wine cellar.  The interior is a mixture of light and dark; the hallways and entry room are lit with candelabras.  But the rooms themselves have high windows, each one decorated with stained glass at the top.  There are many rooms in the estate, but most are unused/storage.  The used rooms are:  Imalia/Asra's study (a large room with floor to ceiling bookshelves on all of the walls, littered with various tables covered in books, scrolls, artifacts, and scientific/magical apparatus), Imalia/Asra's bedroom (large mostly sparse room with a grand canopy bed, vanity, and closet),  the kitchen (more tall than spacious, with eight foot tall mahogany cabinets, prep table, and two stoves), Ben and Avery's rooms, a greenhouse, and three impressive bathrooms.  Before Asra moved in, the house was mostly decorated in browns, reds, and golds.  All of the furniture is dark mahogany, as is the wood trim around the house.  The curtains were usually red or plum, and the furniture had red velvet upholstery.  When Asra moved in, more colors began to splash the scenery.  The furniture became draped in vivid lively colors, the windows began to have various crystals littering the sills, large plush lounging pillows appeared, and more home carved trinkets became a frequent decoration.  After a while, Muriel began to stay at the estate more often when he got involved with Avery, so the presence of homemade charms and wards became a typical sight.  Imalia didn't mind at all.  In fact, more life in the estate made it seem less dreary and completely drove away the bad memories of her youth.

[flowritesstuff]

Blood Lust Chapter 20-Epilogue

After almost another year of carefully orchestrated publicity stunt dates, meetings with sexist, prejudiced bigots, and secrets, made up for by surprise coffees, randomly winning competitions she hadn't entered, and nights spent hiding from the rest of the world in Mycroft's townhouse, Anthea decided she was done playing the assistant.

She walked into the office the next morning and went straight to his door, opening it without knocking and marching to his desk. He looked up at once, almost panicked.

''Anthea? Is everything alright?''

''No. I've decided something.''

''What?''

''I'm going to marry you. I'm tired of waiting and I know you'll have it all planned out, and it'll change things in the public perception scheme, but-''

''Yes.''

''What?'' Now it was her turn to look stunned.

''I said yes. I'll marry you. Today?''

''Today? No- not today- I have plans for it.''

''Of course you do. He laughed and stood up, lifting her slightly off the floor as he hugged her. ''Do you have a ring? Should I choose one?''

''I've picked it out, its waiting at the jewellers. I'll send the driver the address, for when you have time.''

''How about this afternoon? I feel like taking a day off.''

His true smile was something even Anthea saw only rarely, creasing his face in new ways, smoothing out frown lines and brightening his eyes. She tilted her head at him, smiling back.

~

They walked out of the office on the evening of their wedding hand in hand, followed by whispers like shadows, stares and a single peal of laughter, quickly stifled. Despite the fact that the wedding had been a closely guarded secret it was difficult to keep the change in their relationship from the people who saw them most. However, it had been very easy to keep the wedding a secret from two people in particular.

~

John was tired. A long day at a new doctor's, dealing with crying children and worried mothers had worn him out enough, and returning home to find Sherlock's latest experiment had involved the use of both the shower and the bed, and had rendered both unusable, had been enough for one day. Wandering aimlessly through London's darkening streets he relied on his frown and the still strong frame of his silhouette to keep any potential threats away, not caring enough to avoid dangerous areas or empty alleyways.

~

Sherlock wallowed in the silent flat after John left, growing increasingly fretful when his partner didn't return until a tangled mix of regret and fear propelled him from his recline on the sofa and out into the streets. Walking fast and allowing a little of his vampiric strength push him to keep going as he combed the streets looking for his partner. He was almost relieved when the black car pulled smoothly to a halt beside him, coat flaring as he turned to berate the suited man stepping out of the back seat.

''What's taken you so long? Do you have-''

His voice cut off suddenly in the cold air, echoing eerily from the damp stone walls of the street for a second before fading like the stain of breath on a mirror.

~

John turned at the sound of a car in the quiet street, aware of his surroundings in a way his army training had never allowed him to forget. He relaxed marginally when he saw the large black car slowly following him down the street. When it stopped he turned to face it, opening his mouth to tell them he was fine. Before the sound escaped his throat he was falling, a tiny white dart piercing his throat in a crude imitation of a vampire bite.

~

The pair woke up in an empty room. Instead of the cold, empty basement they expected, it was an opulent gilded reception room, lacking in restraints or torture equipment or anything else that would indicate their captor's intent.

''Sherlock? Any ideas would be very helpful here.''

''So would your supposed military skills.'' He walked towards the door, quick movements of his hands twitching his jacket back into place. Just as he reached the door it opened, revealing an unassuming man carrying two suits in plastic covers.

''Please put these on.'' He put them down on a gilded table and turned on his heel to leave.

''Where are we. What do you want?''

At Sherlock's words he turned back over his shoulder.

''Don't worry Mr Holmes. It'll all be clear soon.'' With an unreadable smile he was gone, the door locking behind him.

'Well that made everything better. Do we get changed?''

Sherlock was rifling through the suits, checking seams and lengths.

''It's safe. Get changed, there's no harm in it.'' He began taking off his shirt, passing the smaller suit to John and motioning for him to undress.

~

Sitting together on the couch, Sherlock tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair with one hand and holding John's sleeve with the other, the pair looked up when they heard the door opening for the first time in almost two hours.

''Mycroft- what's going on?'' Sherlock stood up, stepping towards his brother before halting suddenly, almost falling forward with the momentum. '' You look ridiculous. What are you wearing?''

''It's my wedding day. I believe it is traditional to wear a suit.''

''Who would marry you?''

''The secretary- sorry, personal assistant? What's her name?''

''Good try.'' Anthea appeared in the doorway behind Mycroft in a full length white dress, a red ribbon a slash of colour across her waist. She smoothed a hand across Mycroft's shoulders, then stepped past him to face him, pulling his jacket straight and pressing a quick kiss to his cheek.

''I thought it was tradition for the bride to be hidden till the church?'' Sherlock looked the bride in question up and down, his gaze lingering on the red sash.

''We're sharing a car, that would be difficult.''

''Can't borrow one from the queen?''

''Boys. Please stop arguing. I didn't know you were engaged.'' John stepped between the bickering brothers to talk to Anthea.

''It's been planned for a very long time. And I got tired of waiting for it to fit into Mycroft's schedule. Speaking of-'' she tapped Mycroft once on the arm, interrupting his silent argument with his brother. ''it's almost time.''

She led the way out of the room, Mycroft walking close behind her. The detective and his partner followed them after a second.

''They kidnapped us to invite us to their wedding?''

''Remind me to tell you about Mycroft's first girlfriend. There was a lawsuit involved.''

''At least they both seem happy.''

''Smile for them, Sherlock, they're getting married.'' Turning to his donor, Sherlock smiled, sickeningly sweet for a second before he let his fangs show.

''Happy now?''

''Yes.''

[wastelandgoat]

The Courier

[Authors Note] First of the ‘Goats’ i was ever able to collect solid information on, the first i was able to radio in and speak to. He special to my Research and his story still goes. Sadly I say I am bit late getting his information into the system, but it was a bit hard to find time to do it ever since the Prisoner showed up. My hypothesis leads me to believe some big things will become of their development. [End of Note]

The Courier, a once happy hard working Mailman delivering around the Nevada area.

Claims to have grown up on a secluded farm house in the waste with his parents until he had to leave home to find a job for himself. with a stroke up luck took on the mail man Job and the title of Courier 6. happy to help and get the job done.

He changed after the events at Goodsprings. Bad luck brought the platinum chip and what might as well have been a big red X drawn onto the Couriers back. 

Entering the Mojave from the west, Six was ambushed and chased through the desert by the Tribe known as The Geckos and their leader Benny who seeked what the Courier unknowingly possessed. 

The events led to an epic fight in the night, only the people of good springs could have heard the gunfire over the cooled empty desert, and no one could have prepared the traveler to the land he would traverse to escape the Geckos. 

In the escape Six entered the Goodspring area and fell right into town. in the dead of night he fell from a cliff and depending on who you asked, could say he was lucky to have survived. 

having broken his leg and nearly torn his face off in the tumble, he was then dragged up the hill to the Goodspring Graveyard where the Geckos would shoot the Mailmain, take his package and bury him. 

The only thing to have saved his life that night was a Mechanized savior sent by the devil and a doctor stationed in the town.

He was awoken days later, his right eye hardly able to open, his leg still unusable, and his face full of stitches. 

He was broken. Could almost be called mute during his months in Goodspring, he stayed to heal and kept to himself. only giving his trust to the Doctor of Goodspring and only a few words given to others when he needed to speak.

When he was told he was fully recovered the left for the empty lands before them. He wanted to be alone and far away from the place where everything went so wrong.

He survived alone for a awhile, but being alone can only last so long. His travels took him to the old NCR correction facility. Gaining the trust of the Powder Gangers he set up his home in the safety of their buildings, eating the free food and fighting off the NCR who would come to try and reclaim the building. 

The Courier, now having changed his look, his hair and name, a new man, a stranger to himself. He didnt care for ‘right’ or ‘wrong’, supposes he knew the Powder Gangers were in the wrong but he couldn’t care, he was safe and had a place to sleep at night and no one gave a shit about who he was.

Hardly even two months of living in the facility Goat was evicted, a larger group of NCR soliders, more than they'd ever dealt with before arrived. everyone was slaughtered if they were to stand their ground. Only those who ran lived, and Goat ran for his life.

He ran all the way to Novac, where he once again tried to make a home. living in Novac was somehow different, Goat starts talking to his neighbors and helping people who needed it. he was warming up and even felt like a part of his past returning to him. 

However, not a man to keep a home long Goat soon took off, with only a half hearten promise of return. This venture came when he overheard a group of merchants traveling through town mention the Geckos, how they seemed to be cooking something up and if you were smart you'd move yourself out of the strip and freeside. 

Goat knew his target and set out into the desert. 

he began to help people along the way, small things usually with stomping out invasive animals on peoples homes or fixing their water structures or electricity when it was broken.

he travel far to be reunited with the man who ruined his life. 

He arrived in Freeside. he didnt pay much attention to anyone but the ones who were begging for attention. The Kings, big flashy lights and big attitudes. once Goat entered Freeside they all wanted to know his game. 

[Authors Note: by my guesses my theories on the ‘Goat Myth’ have reached far, and it seemed by this post a good bit of the Mojave knew The Courier before ever even seeing him]

Goat, surprisingly took to The Kings, maybe he liked that sense of being in a gang he had once been used to, maybe it was the welcoming vibe the King himself gave off. The Kings became like his family. Goat and the King were close. The King trusted Goat with his dog and important work that were integral to helping Freeside. the two shared much together, their secrets, alone time and hopes for New Vegas. However, Goat claimed that, even if it wasn't ever said they both knew no matter what they wanted of New Vegas their journeys where destined to fall apart and that Goat simply enjoyed the time he would have with The Kings until they knew it would end. 

In Goats work to improve Freeside under the lead of the Kings, he managed to finally get a way into The Strip. Ignoring all distractions he headed straight for Benny.

When the two met Goat, while still angry with what happened months ago, gave a moment of forgiveness. He heard out Benny and knew what he spoke about House to be true. Though He still have great fury for what Benny had done, he agreed to help him, to make a deal to take out House together.

But Benny only once again turn the tables again Goat and ran off with the Chip.

Goat would spend over a week none stop locating and chasing down Benny. Listening to no one else he was filled with anger, a want for revenge and once again filled with a feelings of being broken. The Courier and Benny’s journey led all the way to Legion. Goat didn't know much about the Legion beyond the bad stories he heard, but to Goat none of it mattered. He had Benny Cornered. Goat Agreed to the Legions terms to fight Benny in an arena for show, and when Benny was done for he was then crucified. [Authors Note: Goat never openly shared it with me, but i believe he felt potential remorse over their story ending this way]

Goat returned to The King, Spoke of what he had done. Goat didn't share further on his week after the events with me. 

He did tell that after this time of recovery The King asked him something of a great task. He asked Goat, with the chip, the trust of House still in his hands the stars aligning in everyone favor, to take out House and restore New Vegas to a better Future.

Goat speaks that, if it had been him months ago before he was shot, or even right before the moment Benny broke his trust and sense of judgement again maybe just maybe he would have told the King, Yes.

But he said no.

This was the dived they both knew would come. Both wanted great things for the future of Freeside and all good people, But Goat no longer trusted himself to make any decisions or to lead people. 

Goat left that night, claims no one was to ever see him again in the Mojave. The platinum Chip left in the hands of the King, and the faith people felt in the Pressence of the man spoken in legends taken. 

everyone believed the Courier was dead, but in the five years before The Prisoner would arrive the King insisted he lived. almost like a special secret he got to happily share when anyone would claim death befell the Courier who turn his back on them.

Few knew where the Courier went that night.

[Authors Note: from the bits and pieces of information iv received on the subject Goat was last scene head toward the Nipton Drive in Movie on a late night]